Not the Life
by LinkyRose12
Summary: All her life she was raised to fear the Assassins. She trained to one day stand beside her father in the Order but when her time came, she couldn't do it. She stands torn between family and love. The blood of a Templar, but heart of an Assassin. (Spoilers for AC3 ahead!)
1. Chapter 1

Anita fastened her trusty dagger to her hip. The anticipation of her next kill made her fingers twitch and the process took longer than necessary. She reached to put on her leather bracer s, but stopped. According to her father, she wouldn't need them. It still felt odd. Not to mention the dress and powder, courtesy of her mother. This wasn't exactly the way she imagined she would be joining ranks, but she was eager to please. She doubled herself over and took a deep breath. She stepped out, forcing the anxiety to hide behind a mask for her parents inspection.

"Oh Anita! Look at you. You look so beautiful... but perhaps you should wear your hair up." Anita's mother moved forward already reaching for her daughter's hair.

"Mother, please." she side stepped out of range casually, stopping next to her father. She felt her back straighten almost immediately and quickly brushed her brown hair out of her face. He looked her up and down with a careful eye. the way his brows furrowed together let her know he was in business mode.

"It would have to do," he stated simply. She nodded once and followed him out to their porch. "Our sources have spotted him entering the city not long ago. He should be at or around the general store. Are you ready?"

Anita took another deep breath, stomping down the anxiety trying to break through. "Yeah. I have a plan I intend to follow." She turned to leave, but her fathers strong hand griped her arm. She looked up to find his expression soften.

"You don't have to do this."

"I know." She looked him right in the eye. "I want to."

A sad smile broke his usual hard features. "Do us proud." He patted her shoulder, sending her off. He watched her untie her horse and slip into the saddle. When she returned, perhaps there will finally be talk of her joining. She flicked the reins once, leading the horse at a casual trot. He followed the chestnut mare until they vanished around the street corner, heading deeper into Boston. He had faith she could do this.

Anita sat on a bench just outside the general store, her feet planted on the ground and her head in her hands. How in Gods' name was she supposed to this? As she was riding, her confidence reached an all time high, but the second she saw the general store come in view, reality had hit her like a punch in the face. She felt guilt when she stepped on a snail goddammit. Everything she had striven for her entire life was quickly slipping through her fingers because she couldn't let them wrap around the hilt of her dagger. It sounds so easy in training though. People even praised her for her style and being a quick learner. She could disarm or parry just about any spar partner they set her up against. She felt so prepared. She was going to bring honor to her family's name and climb the ranks to be alongside her father. At least, that's what she had thought. How do they handle this?

A single thought swirled into her head, He is the reason Johnson is dead.

It's his fault her father was so angry that day. With that death he threatened everyone else. He threatens her father and everyone she knows and loves. He is a threat to herself. She had to rid him before it was too late.

"Are you alright?" It was a male voice that spoke to her. A strong and deep one at that.

She waved them off, "I'm fine."

"You don't look all that fine." She picked up on an unfamiliar accent.

"What does it matter to you?" She shot back, then sighed. "I'm sorry. I-I just have a lot on mind." She felt the weight in on the bench change beside her, letting her know he had sat down.

"If there's anything I can do, you just have to ask."

She let out a laugh at his words, turning her head slightly to look at him. She blinked in surprise. Most of his face was covered by a white hood, an eagle embroidered on the lip. From what she could see, everything about his features seemed as if they had been carved from stone, except for his eyes. There was a certain gentleness one wouldn't expect in them. A sincere concern for her, a perfect stranger. His skin was darker than hers, showing his native heritage, but it was still paler than she would have expected. Yet, there was still a feeling of familiarity in his face. She had seen him before... "Have we met already?"

He thought for a moment, studying her face. He shook his head. "No. I believe we haven't. What is your name?"

"Anita. Why would you even want to help me, though? We know nothing of each other." She wasn't pleased with his answer. He looked too familiar. She debated in her mind for a second on whether to press the matter or not.

A half-smile played at his mouth, "I know your name." He paused for a moment before continuing. "You seemed upset and I simply wanted to help. My name is Connor."

The name sent bells ringing in her head. She finally took in his whole appearance, piecing together the hood, robes, weapons and the symbol she had been forced to remember on his belt. "You're Connor?" She asked in half disbelief even though the evidence was all too clear. Her hand moved to rest on the hilt of her dagger. He saw the movement immediately, his own hand moving fast to grip his weapon, his eyes darting for any other sign of danger.

"Why do you ask?" He questioned carefully. Sitting right beside her was the enemy. Someone so dangerous he threatened everything her family was working towards. She wasn't sure how, to be honest, but she knew it was important he was gone. He had killed Johnson. He would kill more of the ones she called family. In time, she was positive he would even kill her. Yet she hesitated.

All she had to do was unsheathed the dagger at her hip. One swift motion would end it all now. If she were lucky, she would catch him before he reacted. One well placed stab right through his chest and the red liquid would stain his white robes. Even if he did have time to react, or move, she was still close enough to manage some hit. His arm or leg perhaps? She saw herself do it. She left him to bleed as she returned to her father and be welcomed to the Order with open arms. Everything she wanted since she had been a child, was mere inches away from her. Seventeen years leading up to this. Still, she hesitated.

The man before her was not the hell-bent monster her parents had told her he would be. Before her was a man with a real concern for her in his eyes. Who came to help a stranger who seemed upset. He had shown her more kindness in his few words than people she had known through her entire life have. .How could he be like someone so obsessed with killing, they did it for sport. The Assassins would kill anyone who got in their way or disapproved of their own methods. One would not hesitate to kill you, they had told her, and so neither should you. Yet, she did.

Her hand slipped off the dagger. She looked away from him and took a breath before pushing off the bench. With a heavy sigh she broke into a full sprint into the closest alley way she could find.

The air rushed past her ears, hair flying madly behind her. Everything was a blur as she ran. She ignored other people, just concentrating on keeping one foot ahead of the other. She was going as fast as she could, but apparently that wasn't fast enough. Something large collided with her mid step, knocking her straight to the ground. Her mind didn't even register she had stopped running until she was forced back on her feet and pinned against the wall by whatever had just hit her. She blinked away the confusion, only to find herself staring right into the familiar face of the assassin. Only this time, the gentleness in his eyes was gone, replaced by something else entirely. Was this, in fact, the monster they had warned her about? Maybe she should have killed him.

"Why did you run?" His voice seemed calm, but there was no denying the hint of anger seeping through every word.

"Let me go!" She shouted back at his face, trying desperately to squirm out of his iron grip, but to no avail.

"I asked why did-" A gunshot fired right by their heads cut him off. He didn't even hesitate. Keeping his strong grip, he ran through the alley, dragging Anita along behind him until they stopped behind a brick house. He crouched down, indicating her to do the same and listened.

"I told ya it would've been too easy," Neither of them recognized the voice, but she had a feeling on who it was.

"Boss said if 'he failed to go on an' kill 'em both!" Anita's eyes widened.

"We need to get out of here," she hissed at the assassin, trying to see around him. A man on the rooftop came into view. He spotted the two and a smirk played on his grummy face as he brought up his gun to aim. "Now!" She pulled on his grip desperately.

Seeing the immediate danger, he sprang up and ran out of the alley, bringing Anita behind. "Can you keep up?" He asked while darting through the crowded streets.

"Just run!" She shouted. There wasn't even a second thought. His run turned into a full sprint, now practically dragging Anita along. She stumbled once, but his grip was strong, keeping her up. They slipped through the street crowds, hearing a gunshot behind them too close for comfort only pushing them forward. People began screaming around them, which made her panic even couldn't outrun them. They had to hide, but where?

Apparently, the assassin got the same idea. He led them off the main road and darted into the nearest alley. It opened up to the backyards, filled with gardens and pets of the nearby residents. He released his grip on her to frantically search for a hiding spot. "Over here." He ran over to a hay pile besides someones animal pen.

"The hay?" She asked in disbelief.

"I think they went down here!" A man called as he entered through the alley. She looked back at the voice. The man sounded like one of the mercenaries her family had hired as of late.

"Do you have a better plan?" He challenged.

"No, but-" He cut her off by promptly plunging into the pile of hay. She had to admit, he was well hidden, but...really? The hay? She chewed at her lip, glancing over her shoulder. The mercenary had come into view and she could fully see it was defiantly one her father had hired. Before she fully processed what that meant, a hand grabbed the collar of her dress and pulled her into the hay. She gasped, landing on her back. The same hand was quick to cover her mouth as the assassin held her still. They both froze to listen.

"Check over there. We'll continue on down 'is way." They listened as the mercenary mused to himself. The footsteps slowly got closer and closer, until Anita was sure he was just another step away. "Maybe in here," He muttered. The assassin released her and moved closer to the edge of the pile, clearly knowing something she didn't. Whatever he was about to do was interrupted though, when the mercenary poked through the hay and stabbed her in the arm. She bit her tongue, but still a gasp from the pain escaped. The assassin said something in a language she didn't recognize which sounded a lot like a curse. He stood up, stabbing the man and dragging him into the pile much like he had done with her, only now that man was dead. She stared as the body landed beside her, horrified. She knew him. Her father proudly introduced her, her brother and mother to him when he was first hired. He was going to kill them on her fathers orders, because she couldn't kill someone else? That didn't sound like her loving and caring father. Her mother would never allow it either! Or did the assassins death just mean that much to him, he was willing to sacrifice his daughter? Speaking of which...

The assassin slipped out of the hay, brushing off any loose strands. "It is clear," he confirmed. Anita followed suit, picking off the hay tangled up in her hair. She pulled up her sleeve to inspect her arm. The puncture wasn't as serious as she first thought. She watched for a moment as the blood seeped out of her skin. She glanced over at the assassin, debating in her mind. The blood continued to drip, staining her mothers' dress. She ignored the look he gave her as she pulled out a handkerchief from her blouse. She wiped the blood and wrapped it around, figuring it would have to do for now. He chose wisely to not comment. "Do you know those men?"

"...Yes. " He waited for her to continue. She sighed. It was unnerving how his gaze held strong. "They work for my father." She looked over to see his reaction. To see if there would be any hint before he turned and killed her as well. Instead, he folded his hands in front of him. "I don't understand why he would send them after me though."

He paused and let this information sink in. However he changed the subject. "Earlier. Why did you run?"

She cast a side glance at him. Seeing her expression he took a step forward. "The same reason I'm running now." Without a second thought she broke out into a run once more.

"Wait!" He called after her, but she was gone and this time he didn't bother chasing after her.


	2. A Chance Meeting, Again

_Hey guys! Just wanted to say thanks for the follows and reviews for the first chapter! Means a lot to me! I noticed with first chapter some words got lost towards the end, so I'll have that fixed in no time! And hopefully it didn't happen with this one too. Anyway, here's chapter two! _

Chapter two: One Year Later

Anita slipped through the crowd easily, hiding away in an alley way. Finding it clear, she fished out her prize. She inspected the apple in her hands. It had a bruise, but other than that it looked pretty good. She wiped it with her jacket and took a bite, relishing as the juices seeped into her mouth. She leaned against the wall and sunk down, content in her moment of solitude. Her thoughts slowly turned into ones of home. Her heart still ached. The night after she met the assassin, she left for home. She debated with herself the entire walk back. The house was dark as she approached the gate. It surprised her when two men guarded the front door. One had nudged the other and pointed at her and she quickly walked on. An hour had passed when she felt the urge to try again. This time she stayed hidden in the shadows casted by the moon. The mercenaries were laughable easy to slip by to reach the side yard. She had climbed up to her brothers window only to find him fast asleep. She knocked quietly anyway.

"Andrew. Andrew wake up." She called through the glass. The younger boy startled awake, looking through the fog of sleep to his window. He spotted her hanging on the windowsill and immediately knocked the covers off to open the window.

"Anita!" He whispered eagerly.

"Andrew. What has happened? Why are there guards?" She asked him.

His young features turned sad and he looked away from her. "Father is not pleased with you. They reported you didn't kill the man and he got angry. Told me you weren't going to come home." His face suddenly lit up and he turned back to her. "But you have! Oh, mama would be pleased!"

"Where is mother and father?"

"Father left with the other men, but mother is here. Should I get her?" He asked.

"Yes, please." He nodded once and darted out his bedroom door. Anita re-positioned her grip and let the information sink in. Her father really was that concerned with the assassins' death. What was his name again?

"Anita! What are you doing here?" She looked up to see her mother running towards her in her night-gown, her face torn between relief and worry at her daughters current position.

"I wanted answers." She said. "I met the man and I couldn't kill him, but then next thing I know we're being shot at by people father hired to protect us! Why?" She watched as her mothers' face turned fearful and sad. She didn't like the look it gave her.

"Anita listen to me. You aren't safe here anymore. You need to stay hidden. Until all this dies down. Then we may be a family again."

"What are you-"

"Please Anita. Here take this." She pulled over the necklace she wore and handed it to her daughter. Anita studied it in her hand, surprised. It was the red cross of the Templars, the Order she so desperately wanted to join. "The death of that monster means more to your father than anything else. Please." Anita stared in her mothers' brown eyes, the same she was given. The pain was so real in them it made tears swell up in her. Her mother was serious. She had to be, too. She watched as tears fell freely as her mother pulled Andrew away, gently shutting the window. With a last look, she shut the curtains closed.

Anita hung there limply. She wasn't exactly sure how long though. Eventually her arm grew tired and she was forced back on the ground. She felt numb as she wondered through the streets.

Anita blinked the memory away, flinching as her vision blurred. She quickly wiped the tears away and looked around to see if she was still alone. Thankfully she was. She finished off her apple and placed the core beside her, debating in her mind what to do next. She snapped to attention at the familiar sound of clanking as a group of Regulars came closer. She scrambled up, not taking any chances. She's pretty sure her mother intended for her to hide out in the frontier, which she did for about a week. The morning she woke up with a spider crawling over her arm and she was done. She came sneaking right back into Boston.

Over the course of the last year, she had been thinking. She hadn't seen the assassin since their first meeting and how she hadn't heard word about it, or from anyone, told her he had to be very much alive still. Her father must still be keeping his knowledge of his existence a secret. He was there when Johnson fell. Knew almost immediately what it was that killed his friend. He felt the pride of killing the threat belonged to their family. If only it was so easy to do so.

She paused mid-step. If that damnable assassin was still alive, perhaps it meant she could have a second chance. A second chance to show her father she could do it.

But he was so nice...

She stomped the thought down and away. Reminded herself he also left nasty bruises on her wrists.

She would be dead if it weren't for him, but then she also wouldn't be in this situation either. She out let a sound of frustration, hanging her head as she turned the corner. She watched her feet until she collided with something, or better someone, knocking whatever they had been carrying to the ground. "Oh, pardon me! I'm so sorry!" she knelt to help bring the assortment of goods together.

"It is fine," answered a familiar voice. She looked up just in time to see the reason for all her troubles kneel beside her to help. What was his name?

"Connor?" She asked carefully. He looked up at her, peering through his hood. His face gave away nothing until a sudden look of realization spread through his brown eyes. Again she felt like she had seen him before, prior to their first meeting.

"Anita?" He asked slowly. She nodded and he seemed pleased he got it right. She hid the smile it brought her and stomped down the feeling that swelled in her stomach. She gathered the remaining things in her hands and stood up.

"I never thanked you for saving my arse back then." She held out the items and he took them with a nod. "So thank you."

"It was nothing," he answered evenly. She let out a laugh as he moved to carry on.

"Getting shot at and being chased across town is nothing to you?" She followed him, a plan formulating inside her head. A heavy feeling swirled inside her chest, but she was determined to see it through.

"I suppose it is something then. Has your arm healed up?" He asked casting a sideways look over at her.

"It has. Although it did leave a scar." They walked in silence for a moment and she debated on whether to ask him now or wait.

"You wear the same dress," it wasn't a question, he just stated the fact.

"So do you!" She shot back, then stopped herself. That was the nerves speaking. She sighed and continued, "I couldn't exactly go back home. I've been on the streets since then." She carefully cast a glance over at him, but he continued to look straight ahead and the hood blocked her view. She followed in silence, curious as to what he was thinking. They walked for a few minutes longer, until he stopped at a black carriage being pulled by an appaloosa mare.

"There is room on the land I am staying at, but you would have to work. In return you may have food and shelter. It's just past the frontier boundary." He re-positioned the items to unlock the carriage door.

"That sounds nice, truly, but I do not think I could travel through the frontier." He said nothing as he placed the clothes, blankets and food items inside the carriage. The door was locked when he spoke again.

"I'm leaving at dawns first light." He looked over at her to be sure she heard. Without another word he walked off, stroking the mare as he went past in the direction of the inn.

Well, that was easier than she thought.

It was still dark when she went back to the carriage the next day. she was only half surprised to find a tall and dark figure already there. "Hello Connor."

He looked over at her. "Hello. Are you ready to go?"

"As soon as you are." They spoke little after that. Even then it was just to confirm them leaving. Connor opened the carriage door for her and closed it gently after her. He slipped into the drivers seat and flicked the reins, leading the horses to the frontier. "How long is the ride through the frontier?" She called over to him. They had already made it out of Boston.

"We should be there late tonight, or early morning. Depending on if we run into any trouble."

"Trouble?"

He turned to look over at her. "Don't worry. I'll see you safe."

The smile broke through her face before she could stop it. "Thank you." He turned back around in his seat. She slumped down, wondering why she was still grinning to herself.

Most of the ride was silence filled between bits of conversation. It usually started with just a question the other had asked. Sometimes one would respond with a simple answer or it would lead to a five-minute conversation. They learned a lot about the other, like how he was from the Mohawk tribe, living with his mentor. She had explained her family traveled from Britain to seek better opportunities, as many families had. She had decided to refer to it as "research".

They didn't stop again until late afternoon. He said nothing as he led the carriage to the side of the road and stopped the mare. "Why are we stopping?" She asked.

He paused and listened. "I thought I heard-" whatever he was going to say was cut off once a man jumped at him from the nearby brush.

"Connor!" Anita gasped. She forced open the carriage, sheathing the dagger at her hip. She caught a glimpse of wrestling on the ground before a pair of hands grabbed at her waist and pulled her back. She twisted in his grip, bringing her dagger up. The man blocked her and brought out his own hunting knife. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted another figure sneaking towards the carriage. Raiders.

She gasped as the knife swung dangerously close to her nose. ignoring that threat she concentrated on the one before her, racking her brain to remember her training. The man lashed out. She spun out-of-the-way, coming up behind him and stabbed him in the back. He let out a yell and quickly made a swipe for her again. She jumped back, feeling the air rush past. she brought an arm up to block, catching his knife. She hesitated for a second before bringing her dagger up and slamming it into his chest. Just as the life drained from his eyes, Connor sprinted past chasing after the man trying to run away with his stolen goods. She yanked her dagger and let the dead man fall to her feet. Connor quickly caught up with the thief and tackled him to the ground. He picked himself up, bending down to gather what the thief ran off with. He brushed the dirt off and walked back, leaving the man to bleed. She didn't even notice he had stabbed him. She looked over to the first man who attacked. The blood seeped through his clothes. Her head was spinning and ears ringing.

She jumped when Connor placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Come on," he said quietly. He led her back into the carriage. "We'll finish the rest of the way tomorrow."

By late afternoon the next day, Connor announced they had arrived. He pulled off his hood, revealing smooth dark hair. He had it pulled back into a ponytail apart from one lock with a bead woven in. "I have to drop off some of the things at a friends first."

"Okay." He looked over at her. It was the first thing she said since last night. She looked back at him and offered a smile.

He continued on down the road, until they reached a wooden bridge. Two men were fishing over the railing. one was short and lanky with bright orange hair while the other was rather large with brown hair and wore a sock cap on his head. They both had beards. They turned in unison at the sound of the carriage and both broke out in grins when they spotted Connor. "You're back boy! Find everything we needed?" The red-headed one said.

"And then some," Connor responded. He jumped off the driver's seat and greeted the two other men. Anita peeked through the window to watch the three, wondering if they were also part of the Assassins. The brown-haired man let out a booming laugh, placing his hands on his large belly. She rethought that possibility.

Connor gestured to the carriage and both men caught her eye. "Well now, who's this?" The red-haired one asked.

"Don't be shy, dearie, we don't bite. Well, not always!" The bigger man laughed at his own joke. Anita slid off the seat and left the comfort of the carriage. She stopped beside Connor.

"This is Terry," Connor gestured to the red-haired one, "and this is Godfrey," he gestured to the bigger man. "Terry, Godfrey, this is Anita. She'll be living on the Homestead with us."

"Welcome to the family!" Godfrey announced, slamming a heavy arm around her shoulders.

"Calm down, Godfrey. You're scaring the poor lass." Terry said pulling his friend off.

"It's alright," Anita laughed. "What is that you do here?" She asked. Connor excused himself quietly to get something from the carriage.

"We're lumberers. Supply all the wood for the Homestead. In fact, Connor saved Terry from drowning years ago! Been here ever since. Yourself?"

She paused. "Oh, I'm no crafter like that. I was living on the streets, so Connor took me in."

Godfrey laughed as Connor returned with arms full of blankets for the lumberers. "Sounds just like the boy." He took the blankets. "The wife would be pleased with these, thank you."

"Yeah. Leave it to Connor to go into town for winter supplies and come back with a women!"Terry laughed. Anita felt the heat rise to her cheeks as Connors eyes widened.

"It's nothing like that!" She blurted out.

"We should keep moving. The Old Man must be wondering where I am," Connor announced. She followed him back to the carriage, glancing back in time to see Godfrey smack Terry upside the head.


	3. Chapter 3

_Hey guys! Here's another chapter! It's a bit shorter than the other two but I wanted to get it out. Thanks for the reviews and new follows too! _

Chapter 3: Suspicions and Letters

Winter came and left smoothly. Throughout the months she was there, Anita met all the fellow Homesteaders. There was Myriam, who was a huntress in every right and Norris who worked in the mines and she was sure fancied Myriam. The wives of Terry and Godfrey, who were eager to get to know her and taught her the basics to sewing and cleaning. Then Achilles. From what she could gather the old man trained Connor since he was a young teenager and it was he who owned the land. It took quite a bit of convincing before Achilles allowed her stay in the manor. Most involved her staying out of the way and handling a fair amount of everyday chores. Considering she now had no where else to go, her and Connor managed to convince him to let her stay.

As she fell into a routine around the manor, the thought of returning to her family slowly slipped out of her mind. She knew why, too. Almost everyday Connor would accompany her as she worked in the stables. They would talk as they brushed the horses or during breaks from his never ending training. She would laugh as the farm dog would beg him for attention, trying to get him to play, and more often than not, succeeding. That's how she learned he had a weakness for animals. Other times, she would convince him to spar with her. He was the toughest partner she ever faced in every right, and she lost almost all the matches they had, but there had been three good days for her and she held strong to that knowledge. However, she could never part with her mothers necklace. She wore it always, hidden from sight.

Still, there was something else. She felt as if she was always being watched. It unnerved her. She suspected Achilles knew who she really was, too. It had been almost a year since she been with them, yet she noticed he never left her alone with Connor. At first she thought it had something to do with not letting him get distracted by a friend during training and she shook it off. But it never changed. Inside the manor he always had an eye on one or the other. When they were out in the barn doing chores, she would catch glimpses of him in the window. Whenever they sparred, he would insist on fake weapons. If Connor went out hunting, before she could even ask to accompany him, Achilles always seemed to find a new job for her to do instead. She expressed her fear of him not liking her to Connor, but he shrugged it off saying, "that's just how he is." She still wasn't pleased.

She had thought about coming clean, telling him where her family really came from. That she knew exactly what he was, but she was scared of how he would react. Connor was odd in that sense. She saw him everyday, yet she still couldn't fully understand him. As summer approached, she let the matter go. It was in the past now after all.

"There you go, girl. I bet that feels better," she whispered to the mare she was brushing. She came out to the barn earlier than usual, leaving the two men to discuss whatever it is they do in that hidden room. She had never asked to go down there, it just had a feeling of secrecy to it that she didn't dare push. Once Connor left the door open while he was down there, but she couldn't take more than two steps down the stairs to call him for supper. The air didn't feel right to her. She looked up from the horse to see a courier walk up to the manor. She paid it no mind and continued on her work. About five minutes later, Connor came storming down the path, his face serious. He walked right past her to begin tacking his chestnut stallion. "Where are you going?" She called over to him.

"Boston," he stated throwing the saddle over the horses back.

"Why?" She stopped to look at him.

"I got a letter from Paul Revere, requesting aide." He tested the saddle straps. Satisfied that they wont slip off, he moved to put on the reins.

"Why are you getting in the middle of that?" She left her horse to stand across from him, brushing the dust off her trousers.

"Pitcairn is mentioned by name." He paused in what he was doing to glance at her. She smirked.

"You weren't supposed to tell me that were you?" She asked. Pitcairn was a name she recognized. Her father would often speak highly of him during dinner. She never met the man, but he sounded alright. Connor ignored her question indicating she was right. "Is there a reason he's so important?" She already knew the answer. He was no doubt leaving to act on the lead he was given on the whereabouts of another Templar.

He considered her for a moment. In his brown eyes she could tell he was debating something to himself. He finished the straps on the reins. "He's a bad man and I need to deal with him." He moved to mount the horse but she stopped him, grabbing hold of the reins.

"Don't talk to me like I'm a child. There's more to it than that."

He sighed and threw his head back. "It's complicated." He said after a moment. She looked down at her feet and an idea popped into her mind.

"Well, it's a long ride to Boston." She pulled her hand back as he tried to snatch the reins from her. The horse snorted at them.

"You're not coming with me." He stated making it sound as if it were fact and leaving no room for arguments. Unfortunately for him, Anita saw plenty room.

"And why not? I can handle myself-"

"You've killed one raider-"

"And have beaten you three different times." He stepped forward and she sized him up. It felt a little pathetic though, considering he was a head taller, had such broad shoulders, and rather large muscles...She blinked, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. She caught Connors' expression switch to confusion as she regripped the reins. "I just want to offer aid. Other than helping around the manor," she added seeing him about to retort. "If you tell me to leave when things get dicey I will."

He considered her for a moment. "You promise? I don't want to see you hurt."

She placed a hand over her heart, "I promise."

"...Fine. I'll tell Achilles." Surprised he actually agreed, she watched him walk back up to the manor. A smug smile tugged at her lips as she turned to saddle up her own horse. Connor returned shortly after. His brows furrowed together and fists clenched. The two had gotten into an argument. Her heart began to race with each step.

"What did Achilles say?" She asked, trying to settle the fear gripping her.

"To watch our backs." He mounted his horse and waited for her to do the same. "Lets go."


	4. Wild Rides Part 1

_Hey guys! So this chapter was a little hard to write and I have a feeling it's noticeable. It turned out pretty long too, so it will be split into two parts. Also, KXR asked for a little more character development and after looking through the last chapters I realized there was little to none development shown. That being said, I was curious if you think I should add to the beginning of the last chapter a little more interactions between Connor, Anita and the rest of the Homesteaders over the year. My concerns with this though is if it would affect the chapter too much or the story's pacing overall and, of course, if any would actually be interested. If anyone is actually interested in reading the little ideas I have, but not in the story I could also post them as drabbles or oneshots along separately. Any advice on this would be much appreciated! Anyway, thank you for the reviews and follows, they mean a lot! _

_Please note this will be getting into the plot of AC3, so spoilers are ahead!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Assassins Creed or any related characters, sadly. Anita and her family are from my crazy mind though! _

Chapter 4: Wild Rides Part 1

The pair had ridden through the frontier for a good part of the day. Crossing the border from the Homestead, Connor had pulled his white hood over his head. He led them through unpopular paths, taking care to stay clear from other travelers. The path they were on now looked as if it hadn't gotten use in months with all the over growth crawling over the leveled dirt. It was here Connor slowed his horse to walk in stride with hers.

"If you're going to help me, you're going to need to know a few things, but I think you are deserving," he said after a moment. She nodded, then remembered he wasn't looking.

"I'm all ears." She felt her heart quicken. He was going to tell her about the Assassins. He trusted her enough to explain. Well he did let her come along. _I think you are deserving_.

"Pitcairn belongs to an ancient Order. A group of sinister, selfish men bent on taking over this land. They're trying to control people for their own benefits, forcing them to follow in fear. I'm trying to stop them." He paused to let her process the information. The words confused Anita.

"They are?" She asked quietly.

"Yes. They seem to not understand submission under a new hand will not equal peace for this land." That wasn't what she meant.

"Are they truly evil for seeing a different path to peace than you?"

"What they seek is not peace. It is power." He answered without skipping a beat and looked over at her. Anita was pretty good at hiding her face, but Connor was better at reading people than her parents. "Having second thoughts about coming?"

"No. I want to see if what you speak is true."

"Be my guest." She shot him a dirty look without thinking. Thankfully he had already faced ahead again and didn't see. Sinister, evil and selfish. Is that how he would see her if she told him of her true blood? That doesn't sound like her family though. She felt an aching feeling grip in her stomach and it quickly boiled into anger. What right did he have to say that about them? He didn't know them, not like she did. Then again, her father did give an order to kill her and the man she was riding beside. She groaned, ignoring Connors curious gaze. It was all confusing to think about. Her family may have shunned her, but they were also her family. Plain and simple.

"Do...you know any other Templar's?"

"I-I don't believe I referred to him as a Templar." Shit. He was right. He didn't. Too caught up in worrying about her family, she let it slip out. She kept her face straight, well at least tried to.

"Yes, you did. You said ancient Templar Order."

He thought for a moment, tilting his head. "I suppose..." He said skeptically.

"Yes, right, so the others? Do you know who they are?" Anita mentally slapped herself. From now on she must be more careful with what she says.

"As far as I know, Nicholas Biddle," rarely heard of him, "Ben Church," heard of him, never met him, "Thomas Hickey," father never let him near the house, "Charles Lee," know him, bit of a temper on him but he was very loyal to-, "and Haytham Kenway." Knew him. Considered a family friend, he was constantly being invited to dinner when he wasn't busy. Charming and a way with words, he had every right to be Grand Master. Not to mention, pretty handsome for an older man. The important point though was her family name wasn't spoken.

"I know of Haytham. I've seen him from a distance," she quickly added. "Had no idea..." She let the sentence trail off, hoping it throw him off. She looked over at him just as he faced her. She blinked at him, surprised, suddenly seeing another face in his. "In an odd way," she tilted her head, "you sort of look like him."

He quickly turned away, letting out a half-hearted laugh. "I would be surprised if I didn't, considering he is my father."

She felt her jaw drop. "What?" She managed out. Connor just nodded. So it seems she's not the only one with family issues.

The two arrived in Boston that night. After finding Paul Reveres house, Anita decided to leave Connor there in search of a general store. Surprised to actually find one open, she purchased a new blade. The man seemed hesitant to sell a sword to someone barely considered a woman, but after she flashed him a couple extra pounds, he didn't stop her. She could feel the cool night breeze through her tattered old jacket, so she figured she would replace it as well. She found a long black coat with a belt and hood that struck her fancy. Finding it a perfect fit, she ditched her old one there and slide it over her green blouse. She leaned on the fence outside the house she left Connor in, her new sword hanging on her hip and trusty dagger hidden in her boot.

The door opened and she looked to find two men she didn't know leave. One man in a grey blue jacket offered a smile as he walked past. She returned the gesture and followed with her eyes as they walked down the street, chatting intensely amongst themselves when they were sure she couldn't hear. A few minutes later and the door opened again. Connor stepped out, looking a bit annoyed, followed behind who she presumed was Paul Revere. "We best hurry. Come along." He stepped ahead of Connor and spotted her. "Oh, excuse me miss, but we have important business to attend to." He walked past, moving to mount his horse.

"Actually," Connor started stopping him, "Anita here will be joining us. She's my...partner if you will."

His face suddenly lit and he closed the distance between them. "Ah, well then, welcome aboard Anita. Paul Revere at your service."

"Pleased to meet you," she extended her hand for him to shake, but instead he took it in his and brought her knuckles to his lips.

"Pleasure is mine." She smiled out of respect and took her hand back. Paul grinned widely and looked between the two, "shall we be off?"

Following Pauls instructions the trio were making their way through the frontier by boat. She was let in on knowing they would be travelling to the different villages to alert the militias of the Regulars marching for Lexington and Concord. Connor rowed as Paul sat between and if she learned anything from him, it was that he loved to talk. The man didn't even need either of them active in the conversation to keep going. On more than one occasion she caught Connor rolling his eyes or with an annoyed expression on his face at what Paul was talking about. She wondered if Paul even realized his comments on the surrounding environment, society, or even his fellow colleagues could be considered offensive. Neither her nor Connor stopped him though. Probably because they both thought he would tire his mouth out eventually.

"Oh! Over there!" He pointed behind Connor. "That's where the horses should be waiting." Connor nodded and steered the boat into the shore. When they were close enough, he jumped out and began pulling the boat in. Paul followed behind. She thought he was going to help, but instead jumped straight for the shore and made his way to where two horses were tied. "Seems they only left two horses. We'll have to ride together." As he began untying the horses, Anita jumped out and helped Connor pull the boat in, which was surprisingly heavier than she was expecting. Beside her, she could feel the annoyance radiating off of him at Paul. "What are you two doing? Get on the horses."They both turned to find him sitting on the back of one horse, behind the saddle. The pair looked to the other and Connor shrugged, gesturing her to go. Anita stepped forward and Paul made a disapproving sound. "Come on, Connor. Let the young lady ride alone.

"What?"

"You heard him." Anita tried to stifle her giggles at his expression, nudging him forward.

"Wouldn't it make more sense for us to ride together?" He asked to her.

"Of course not," she responded. She stepped past him and mounted her appointed horse. Begrudgingly, Connor climbed into the saddle in front of Paul Revere. They rode out of the forest coming across a dirt path, Anita following close behind the pair. The path was winding and confusing. If it weren't for Reveres constant comments on navigation, she was sure they would've gotten lost or mixed up. "Hold up." They came to yet another fork in the road. Connor pulled the reins and she stopped beside them.

"Did you hear something?" Paul answered his own question as the sound of British troops became clearer. "What are they doing here?"

"They must be scouts."

"And there's probably more where those came from," Anita noted.

"Be careful," Paul said, placing a hand on Connors shoulder and leaning in as if to tell him a secret. "We mustn't let them warn the others!" Connor shrugged him off and hunched forward in the saddle. He flicked the reins and lead the small party in the opposite direction of the scouts. They soon came upon a small housing settlement.

"It might be safer if we approach on foot," Paul offered, already slipping off the back of their horse. The two followed suit. The group rounded a building to the main path.

"Which house is it?" Anita asked.

It was Connor who pointed to house on their left. "It's that one."

"Indeed it is my friend!"

Anita tilted her head as she followed the two to the door. How had he known that? Connor knocked on the door and she shrugged it off. A moment later a man appeared at the doorway and looked between the three curiously.

"Let everyone know that the Regulars march for Lexington and Concord." Revere announced to him. The mans eyes widen. He nodded and turned to someone inside the house and shouted, "the British are coming!" The process repeated the entire night. They rode form one house to the next, avoiding any Regular scouts on the way. She grew tired as the night stretched on, but she fought it off when Paul mentioned they had one more house to go before heading to a man called Sam Prescott. She followed a step behind as they approached the next house. Once more, Connor knocked at the door. There was a second wait until a man opened it, uneasily looking at his guests. "The Regulars are coming!"

"Here," a disembodied voice called from within the house. A British soldier ran to the door, slamming into the first man and bringing the gun in his hands up to aim at the three. "We're here!" Anita gasped, grabbing Connors sleeve and pulling him back instinctively. The trio dashed back to the horses as more Regulars made themselves known and gunshots fired off. A solider grabbed a fistful of Anita's jacket, making her stumble. She gasped, but recovered quickly, slipping her dagger out from her boot. She twisted in her jacket and brought the weapon into his side. Caught off guard, he let go and doubled over, clutching at the wound. She roughly slammed the hilt on the back of his head, sending him into the dirt. She stared at the body for a second before running to catch up with Connor and Paul to quickly mount their horses.

"We have to lose them!" Paul shouted from behind Connor, glancing behind him. Anita quickly searched around, the sudden adrenaline in her system making his voice sound far away.

"Through the field!" Anita slammed her boots into her horse, leaving the two behind. She heard Connor shout for her to keep going, so she did, until she disappeared into the trees. Reaching a clearing in the forest, she pulled on the reins to stop, and waited. The dark forest around her was quiet, unnerving her. Her horse snorted and shifted under her. She patted its neck, trying to calm the creature despite her own paranoia creeping through her body. Rustling in the brush just beyond her line of sight made her hand fly to the hilt of her sword. She grasped it so tight, her knuckles turned white.

"Anita?" A familiar voice hissed through the trees. She let her hand drop.

"Over here." A relieved looking Connor and Paul came into view. After a quick check to make sure the other was alright, they moved on, following Paul's instructions to Prescott's house up on a hill. Anita and Connor stood back as Paul knocked on the door. No answer. Paul knocked again and waited. Again, no response.

"Where the devil is he?"

"Are you sure we are in the right place?" Connor asked, twisting his hands in front of him.

"Sure I'm sure," Paul said, slightly offended at Connors doubt. He moved to try the back when a women darted past. Anita watched curiously until realizing she was half-naked and hugging herself, trying to hide. She glanced up at Connor beside her, seeing him still watching the woman run off. She elbowed him in the ribs, ignoring the odd jealous feeling swirl in the pit of her stomach. He looked down at her confused but whatever he was going to ask got cut off when a young-looking man came around, spotting the trio. "Prescott?" Paul asked the man surprised, mostly due to the fact the man was lacking a pair of trousers at the moment. He didn't seem too concerned though.

"Evening gents. And lady," he added spotting a slightly embarrassed Anita.

"Listen, the Regulars are out. You need to rally your men. And uh...put on some trousers."

"At once," he said rather pleasantly. He gave them a little salute before heading back inside his house.

"Right then," Anita said. She turned around to start walking back to the horses.

"Yes. We should head towards the Hancock-Clarke house in Lexington. Not too far from here," Paul said hopping on the horse behind Connor once more.


	5. Wild Rides Part 2

_Hey everyone! Here's the second part of chapter two. To KXR, that's a good point and I like that idea!_

_Thanks again to all the new followers and kind comments everyone! _

_Disclaimer: I do not own Assassins Creed 3 or any related characters, however Anita and everything dealing with her is my own._

Chapter 4: Wild Rides Part 2

They entered Lexington after a short ride. The small little town was quiet and peaceful, unaware of the danger approaching. "Welcome to Lexington, Connor and Anita. Now let's find Hancock and Adams." Neither of them responded. Connor was just being his usual quiet self, while Anita was too caught up in taking in the small settlement. "Hmm," Paul mused. "No sign of Dawes. I hope he's alright."

"I'm sure he is," she responded almost immediately. She wasn't sure who Dawes was, but it seemed to ease Paul Revere just a bit. They came up on a rather large white house. Dismounting the horses, her and Paul followed Connor inside. They found three men huddled around a fire, poking at it to keep the warmth up. Hearing the trio approach, the men turned around.

"Paul, Connor. Good to see you," said Adams, then he spotted Anita halfway behind Connor. "A surprise to see you, Miss Anita." She could only offer a smile before Connor pushed past Paul, getting back to business.

"You need to leave. The Redcoats are coming."

"Aye, so William's told us," Adams said, returning to poking at the fire. "Let them conduct their little search. They'll find nothing."

Connor rolled his head back impatiently. "You don't understand. Pitcairn intends to kill you."

"I'm afraid it's true," Paul backed up softly.

The three men looked between themselves. "I suppose we have no choice then, but to go," Adams said while they stood. "What of you three?"

"Dawes and I will continue on to Concord," Paul explained. "Connor, it's best you stay here and help our man John Parker hold the town. It'll give us time to spread the word." He moved to leave, but Anita spoke up.

"What of me?" She offered.

The men, apart from Connor, looked between each other uneasily. It was Adams who spoke out. "Listen. A young lady, like yourself, shouldn't get mixed up in these situations." He placed a supportive hand on her shoulder. "You've had your fun, but now it's time to head home until this dies down and let us men handle it." She shrugged him off, suddenly offended.

"If you think I'm some weak little girl, you're wrong," she began, placing her hands on her hips.

"No of course not. You come form a strong family it's just-"

"Stop," Connor cut through. He stepped between the two, facing Anita. "Before we left you promised that if I thought things were getting dangerous you would leave at my word." She nodded slowly, knowing where this was going. He stared at her from under his hood, being sure she was listening. "I'm telling you now, the situation is getting dangerous and I don't want you involved now. Head back to the Homestead. I'll meet you there soon." She glared back at him, but ultimately knew there was no room for argument. She had promised. She cursed quietly, ignoring the surprise from the other men.

"Fine."

"Well," Paul coughed awkwardly. "Now that's taken care off, we'll be off."The group filed out of the house. Anita remained silent as she untied her horse, softly stroking its muzzle. The other men just walked past her, but she ignored them focusing on Connor. As much as she wanted to be angry at him, she knew he was just looking out her for.

"You'll be careful out there, right?" She asked quietly. He stroked the horse's neck, watching the others walk on ahead.

"Of course," he said, offering her a half-smile. She didn't exactly believe him, but she took it with a nod.

"You better go."

"As should you." He handed her the reins and left. She watched him walk off, heading to the edge of town. He glanced back at her and she gave a little wave, feeling slightly lost and turned back to her horse. The events of the night slowly made themselves known. Dawn had yet to break, still a few hours away from the looks of it. She twisted the reins in her hand and lead the horse to the trees around the house. After re-tying the animal, she took a seat under a large tree, wrapping her jacket closer to her body. If a year on the streets taught her anything, it was how to take a nap just about anywhere. She ignored the growl of her stomach and closed her eyes. Just an hour, she told herself, then she'll began the trip back.

Anita's eyes snapped open. The sun was out and shinning through the leaves over her, but that wasn't her first concern. She listened intensely, trying to ignore the sudden panic. She heard it again. Gunshots. They sounded distant, but still too close for comfort. She jumped up, completely awake now, and untied her horse with haste, becoming aware of the screaming townsfolk. She cursed at herself for being so sleep greedy, quickly mounting the horse, feeling its panic under her mixing with her own.

Making it back on the main road, Anita urged her horse to go faster. The sounds of war were still too close behind. People were screaming and running, adding to the confusion. She forced herself to ignore it. A dark figure suddenly darted across the path. Startled, the horse beneath her skidded to a stop, snorting. She gripped the reins tightly to avoid being thrown off. The figure yelled and pulled something from under his coat. There was a loud bang, flash of light and next thing she knew she was on the ground. She managed to quickly roll away as her horse fell beside her. The _shing_ sound of a sword being drawn caught her attention. The man quickly stepped over to her, the bottom half of his face covered, twisting the sword in his hand. She dodged as he slammed it in the ground where she was seconds ago. He struggled to pull it back free of the dirt. Taking the chance, she wrapped her feet around his ankles and pulled, knocking him on his side. Wasting no time, she moved to get on her feet, reaching for her own sword, but he recovered faster than she anticipated.

Ignoring weapons, he leapt at her, slamming into her side. She twisted and kicked, trying desperately to get him off, but he had her pinned down. She heard him laugh as he brought an arm back. Black dots swirled behind her eyes as his fist connected to her face. The force knocked off her hood, but she didn't care. For a moment she thought she heard him gasp. Her vision cleared and with all the strength she could muster, she slammed her own fist into his nose. He staggered back and she squirmed out of the way, planting her feet on his chest and kicking him on his back. She rolled to her feet, a bit clumsily, pulling out her dagger. She stepped over to him, writhing in the dirt clutching at his nose. The thought of just leaving him crossed her mind, but first she wanted answers. He threw out a gloved hand, "wait!" She knew that voice. She rushed over, pinning him down and drawing her dagger to his throat. Her hand hovered over the mask that covered his face, but stopped. She found herself looking into matching brown eyes. Gently, she pulled it off.

"Andrew!" She gasped, recognizing her brother. She quickly got off him, moving to help sit him up. She winced at the sight of blood flowing from his nose. "I can't believe it's you!" She studied his face. It had been two years since she last saw her little brother. He was sixteen now. His brown hair was longer, falling just past his ears and into his eyes. The baby fat he always had was entirely gone, replaced by, from what she could tell, toned muscles. She stared at him, surprised, feeling as if she had missed an important part of his life. She handed him back the fabric that was once his mask. "Here. It'll help with the bleeding." He nodded a thanks and brought it to his nose carefully, testing to make sure it wasn't broken. He studied her the same way she had, wondering what had happened in her life since they last spoke.

"Sorry about punching you in the face, Anita."

"Me too. I didn't break your nose did I?" He shook his head. A feeling of relief washed over her. She carefully touched her jaw, wincing at where he had hit her. It was going to leave a nasty bruise.

Andrew looked back up at her, a sad smile breaking his bloody features. "I thought you had died."

She let out a laugh. "You should know better than that."

"True." His voice had deepened. A feeling of homesickness squeezed at her heart. Suddenly, a group of villagers ran past and a man paused to scream at the two to keep moving.

"We better move. We can hide in a barn until everything dies down." They helped each other to their feet, both their heads still throbbing from their fight. They stumbled off the main road, Andrew grabbing his sword as they walked by, until they found a suitable run down barn. Andrew climbed in through a window as Anita watched to be sure no one was looking, then followed after her brother. He leaned against the wood and slid down, Anita coming up to sit beside him. The brother and sister sat in silence, both thinking the same thing. "You're a long way from home."

"I know. I'm actually out scouting now." Seeing Anita's confused expression he explained eagerly. "Dad's letting me work for the Order! Him and the others have sent me out on missions here and there to prove my worth. Nothing big like he had you do. Just scouting and spying and stuff."

"Impressive." Andrews face broke out in the biggest smile she had seen in a long time. It warmed her heart to no end. She smiled back and ruffled his hair playfully, for a moment imagining them as children again. She spotted bruises forming on her knuckles and brought her hand back into her lap.

"Yeah. I'm actually surprised dad didn't send me after that Assassin guy like he did with you. He hasn't mentioned it since, you know. Not even to Master Kenway or Master Lee. I think he's embarrassed."

"Understandable." So Connor was safe. At least for now. She looked over at her brother, face serious. "Andrew." He was taken aback by the tone of her voice, but she ignored him and carefully moved to inspect his nose. "That Assassin is still alive and very much active. He doesn't know who you or father are, nor do I plan on telling him, but he knows Master Kenway, Lee, Pitcairn, Hickey, and Church. You must be careful with your actions." She gently wiped the blood away, waiting to see if any more fell.

"Hold on," he shoved her hand away, "you're working with him? Is that what you've been doing?" He looked as if she slapped him across the face. The pain with what he thought was betrayal slowly easing into his features.

"No, of course not! It's nothing like that. I tagged along to make sure he didn't know or hurt you." She watched as the hurt in his eyes drained. They lit up suddenly with a spark of something she didn't recognize. At least, not on him.

"Anita, do you know where he is? We could put a stop to it now! Make sure he doesn't get close to anyone ever again!" He pushed her away to get to his feet, but she quickly grabbed hold of his arm.

"Are you insane? First off, we parted ways last night. He could be anywhere now. Second, you have no hope against him and I've only seen a fraction of what he can do."

"He trusts you?" He asked as if he had not heard what she just said.

"I-I believe so, bu-"

"Next time you're together then! He wouldn't even see it coming!"

"What are you-"

"It would be wonderful! We could all be a family again and we could officially join the ranks together and do missions _together_. People will learn to fear the Alcott name!"

Anita got to her feet, being sure to keep a hold of him so he doesn't run off. "Not if you're dead," she said sternly. "Whatever trust is between Connor and myself, I'm not about to betray."

"Even for us?"

She looked down at her feet. "I couldn't do it when I didn't even know him," she admitted, suddenly quiet. "What makes you think I can do it now?"

Silence, then, "I'll do it."

"No. That's besides the point. Look I love you, mother and father, but I also...care about him. He took me in when you shoved me away. He's not that crazed monster our parents raised us to fear." Andrew yanked his arm free at her words, stepping back.

"I thought you were on our side."

She looked up, frustration boiling in her at him for not understanding. "I'm on no ones side!" She blurted out. She surprised even herself, but they felt right. "I'm on no ones side." She repeated, a bit quieter.

Andrew nodded, slowly, letting the words sink in. "Then... I suppose I have no reason being here now. I better get back to work. See you around, Anita."

"Take care, Andrew. Please." He gave a half-hearted wave and climbed out the broken window. Anita listened until she couldn't hear his footsteps anymore. Suddenly fully aware of how quiet it had gotten, she leaned on the wall and slide to the ground, bringing her knees to her chest and hugging them. Only once before had she felt so alone.


	6. Chapter 6: A Night on the Homestead

_Hey guys! Sorry this chapter took awhile to get out. Real life got distracting for a while there. Anyway, here's the next chapter. I will admit now, I'm not too happy with it, but that's mostly because it is a filler.(And I have a feeling the next one might be too) _

_Thank you to all the new followers and the kind reviews! They seriously mean a lot!_

* * *

Chapter 6: A Night on the Homestead

Connor didn't return to the Homestead for a long time. He stopped by once, explaining he was to ride for Philadelphia to hear George Washington accept his place as Commander-in-Chief, then left again.

When Anita arrived to the manor by herself with a bruised face and hand, Achilles was suspicious. His lack of trust in her added to the hurt she was already feeling, but she knew, deep down it was understandable. She told him what Adams' and Connor had told her and explained of the battle start in Lexington, but explained it was a British solider that had punched her. He seemed to believed her after that. It felt quiet in the manor without Connor. His absence was noticeable, especially to her. She went through her routine in silence, only speaking up to ask Achilles if he wanted her to make anything special for dinner.

About a week or two before Connor came back, a farmer named Warren and his wife Prudence arrived, explaining he had offered them land in exchange for crops after the Redcoats salted their previous farm and killed their livestock. Terry and Godfrey, with the help of Lance, put a roof over their heads, and the husband and wife set out to begin laying their first seeds on the land. Once the exciment of new neighbors had died down, Connor had returned in the middle of the night.

For a reason she was unsure of, Anita couldn't sleep that night. She tossed and turned, but nothing worked. It was well into the night when she finally admitted defeat. Slipping on her jacket and boots, she quietly made her way through the manor, mindful to skip over the one step that always creaked. She sneaked past Achilles' door and out through the back. The cool night breeze played with the tips of her hair on the porch as she took in the night around her. Using the moon as light, she crossed through the path to the edge of the cliff the red manor rested on. She climbed up on a rock and took a seat, overlooking the cove the Aquila rested in. On this clear night, she could hear almost perfectly the ship swaying in the tides. Out here, alone, she concentrated on the scenery, not letting any dark or conflicted thought enter her mind. If only for a minute, she wanted peace in her head.

A rustle from the brush behind startled her, sending her hand flying to her dagger, but grasping air. Panicking, she flattened herself on the rock, hoping the night would be enough to cover her. A large familiar figure came into her sight and she relaxed, her panic being replaced by eagerness. "Connor?" She called out hopefully.

The figure stopped and turned around, trying to find the source of the voice. "Anita?" Connor's voice called back.

"Over here." She pushed herself up and slid down the rock. He met her half way and without thinking she wrapped her arms around his waist. "Welcome back." It dawned on her what she had down and her eyes went wide. She felt him tense under her and before he could return the gesture, she stepped back, fully embarrassed. "Sorry. Are you hurt?" She asked.

"There was nothing to apologize for. And no. Sore and tired, but not hurt." He walked to the rock she had been on. "What are you doing out here?"

"Nights when I can't sleep I like to come out here." She explained, walking past him to climb up on the rock again. "It's peaceful."

"Hm." He pulled himself up after her and sat to overlook the cove. They sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes. "Perhaps I should try this more often."

"Perhaps." It was no secret Connor suffered horrible nightmares more often than most. The creaking of his bed echoed through the manor on many nights. Often followed by a heavy thud, alerting them he had fallen on the floor or the bedpost had hit the wall. She thought back to when she first awakened by such an event.

Anita had jolted awake. It took a moment longer for her breathing to steady. She looked around her dark room, trying to find anything that would've been the source of the violent yank from sleep. Finding nothing, she settled back under the covers. A thud from the room across from her suddenly changed her mind. She moved and wrapped her fingers around the hilt of her dagger. On almost silent feet she snuck down the hall, checking every shadow to be sure no one else was there. She checked inside Connors room, finding it empty apart from his form on the bed. She was about to move on down the stairs when he groaned, tossing his body to the side. He mumbled something she didn't catch and rolled over again. The movement caused the bedpost to bang against the wall, creating the thud she had heard from her own bed. Feeling slightly better, she stepped forward and on closer inspection she noticed him covered in a thin sheet of sweat. Concerned, she slowly moved her hand to touch his exposed arm, checking he wasn't catching fever. He winced at her slight touch and rolled over, still mumbling in his sleep.

She sighed, crossing the room to set her dagger on his desk and take a seat. On numerous occasions she had walked in on Andrew having his own nightmares. She grew into habit of sitting on the edge of the younger boys bed, waiting for him to wake himself up. When he did, she would comfort him, whether it be just the knowledge of knowing he wasn't alone or crying in her lap, until he fell back asleep. On the odd days the little boy woke up alone and scared, he would tip toe into her room and crawl in bed with her. If hard-working parents did anything to the two, it brought them closer than most siblings she knew.

However she wasn't about to do that to Connor. She liked the man, truly, but she also knew he liked his space and privacy. So instead she had lit the candle on his desk, making a mental note that it needed replacing soon. She was back warm under her covers when the creaking stopped.

She let the memory fade into the back of her mind once more, remembering what Connor was returning from. "What of that man-Pitcairn?" She asked.

"Dead," he stated. Over the time she spent alone, she had convinced herself the words she spoke to her brother were true. She was on no ones side. The only thing she wanted to concern herself with was keeping her family a secret to Connor and Achilles. And vice versa the more she thought of it, especially with Andrew out running around. She let the news not show any effect on her face. Luckily for her, he was too caught up in his own thoughts to see.

"You seem troubled still."

He sighed, glancing down at his gloved hands. "There was a...letter on him. I have to speak with Achilles about it tomorrow." He looked up at the sky. "Or rather later today."

"It mustn't be good."

He shook his head. "It's not."

She had another question, but hesitated a moment before asking. "Have you come across another? A Templar, I mean. Or anyone else within the Order?"

She saw his head shake no and released the breath she hadn't realized she was holding, letting herself relax. If Andrew heeded her advice, the teen should be fine. Well, key word being should. She looked back over at him and noticed the edges of his features etched in disappointment. His dark eyes scanned over the cove as the breeze pulled at the loose strands of hair. In the moonlight, she could faintly make out the gleam of the scar on his cheek. The relief she felt was washed over by a strong guilt for taking pride in how he was now at a lost of what to do next.

"If-" She began, then stopped and tried again, pushing her overgrown bangs out of her face., knowing full well she's about to dig the hole deeper for herself. "If you need help, with anything, know I am here for you."

His lips twitched into that half-smile of his. "I am grateful for it, Anita. You're one of the only solid foundations I have in my life. It's...pleasant coming back to you and Achilles." He was referring to the times he would come back from weeks out at sea or the other random missions Achilles had found for him.

She smiled and tilted her head, ignoring the heavy weight that just dropped in her stomach. "Are you...telling me I'm a good friend?"

"That, too." He waited a moment before adding, "Although, you never did tell me why you ran that day."

"When we first met?" He nodded, watching her.

"I don't mean to pry. Just curious."

"...In all honesty, I was afraid. The reason for it doesn't matter now, " she added quickly, the words coming out as a whisper.

"Are you still?" Connor asked, his voice matching hers.

"Sometimes," she admitted and let out a sigh. He was silent for a while, but she didn't dare face him to see his own expression. She could feel him trying to decipher hers and she wasn't willing to let him. At least not yet. "You should go on inside. It's late and you deserve a proper rest." He said not a word as he slipped off the rock, landing silently on his boots.

"Are you coming?"

"In a bit." She continued to look over the cove, watching a thick fog rolling in, threatening to swallow the Aquila. However she could still feel his gaze on her back.

"Anita." His voice was soft and it gave her a strange fluttery feeling in her stomach. He waited until she turned at her waist to face him, falling back on one hand to make eye contact. "Know I am here for you as well"

She felt a genuine smile creep up on her face, feeling her cheeks flush. "I appreciate it. Sleep well, Connor."

He bowed his head once in a deep nod before turning to walk into the manor. She listened for the door to shut to face back at the cove, bringing her knees up and resting her chin between them. The ship below had been engulfed by the thick fog.


	7. Chapter 7: The Time Between

_There's thirty-two of you following this! You don't understand how much that boggles my mind! When I started this I didn't even think two people would be interested much less thirty! Thank you so much, truly. Unfortunately, I just have another filler as thanks, but next chapter we'll be getting back into the thick of things! Also, this turned out super long, so sorry about that, but I had fun writing it._

_Thanks for the reviews! Just you wait guys..._

_A warm welcome to the new followers and thanks to all you lurkers as well. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own Assassins Creed 3 or any of its related characters. However Anita is mine. _

* * *

Chapter 7: The Time Between

The days after Connors return passed quickly. Most mornings he spent hidden away in that secret room, no doubt pouring over any bit of information he could get his calloused hands on. Achilles had begun speaking to her more often about the little things, like the changing weather, Connors stubbornness, or how hard is was getting quality tea nowadays. The conversations were suprisely..homely. She debated often if it meant the old man had started to trust her more or if he just spoke to her about such things since Connor wasn't exactly one for 'small talk'. Nonetheless, she welcomed them.

Connor had recently been gone for the past two weeks, out at sea after getting word of need from a merchant ship. While he was gone, the first snow of the season had fallen, leaving the Homestead covered in a blanket of white.

Today, she found herself sitting cross-legged on a tree stump outside the stable, taking a break from her work. Prudence had come by earlier with fresh-baked bread, so she had torn off a piece for a snack. She huddled under her jacket fighting off the cold, trying to ignore the begging dog at her feet. She popped the last of the bread in her mouth and watched the dogs ears' dip. Feeling bad for the animal, she leaned forward and scratched him behind the ears with a gloved hand, being pleased when his tail began wagging, just as she heard the manor door open and close. A few seconds later, she spotted Connor walking down the path, ducking under the branches that reached over, his bow in one hand and his quiver full of arrows on his back. The snow crunched under his weight, filling in his usual silent footsteps. Both her and the dog observed curiously as he stalked past. He stopped to pick up a bale of hay, setting it back down against the stable wall and pulled what appeared to be a bulls-eye out of his jacket. Anita readjusted herself to face him, still silently watching. She herself knew the basics of how to use a bow, but admits she isn't very good at it.

He paced back, stopped, then took a few more steps backwards before nocking an arrow. There was a second pause as he took aim. The arrow streaked through the air before embedding itself just over the bulls-eye.

"I thought you had a deadly aim," she teased. He glared at her for just a second before nocking another arrow. He took careful aim before letting it fly. This time it found its mark. She could_ feel_ his smirk before she saw it. "I stand corrected." He pulled back another arrow and repeated the exercise and she just knew that smirk never left his face. Her eyes fell on the snow around her and she smirked to herself. Leaning forward, she scooped up a handful of the white ice, packing it into a ball, glancing up make sure he wasn't looking. Just as he pulled back a fourth arrow, she let her own projectile fly. He let out a startled cry as snow filled his ear, the arrow going wide. He turned to yell at her, shaking the snow out of his hood, only to find her doubled over in laughter.

"I'm sorry," she laughed hugging her stomach, "but your face...when the snowball hit... priceless!" Her fit of giggles turned into a string of curses when a ball of snow suddenly smacked the side of her own head, the ice trailing under her jacket. She glared back up at him, finding a triumphant smirk dancing on his freckled face. For what felt like hours they glared at the other, eyes narrowing, until a second later she broke out in a grin, pushing off the stump to gather more snow. She yelped as another pelted her shoulder. She rolled to her feet bringing back her arm and paused, finding herself alone. "Connor?" Something hard hit her chest, sending her falling back. She cursed herself for being so naive, sitting back up and brushing the snow off.

"What are you two doing?" Called a condescending voice. Connor appeared from behind the barn, lowering his arm mid throw as Anita turned back to face Achilles limping down the path.

"Getting pelted by snowballs apparently," she said. Connor came over, offering a hand up.

"You did bring it upon yourself."

"I know." She let go of his hand to brush off the remaining snow. She turned to face Achilles. "Are you sure you should be out here? It's pretty cold."

The old man waved her off, sitting down on the tree stump. "I wanted to ask you something, Anita."

"I'm all ears."

He studied her carefully under the brim of his hat before speaking again. "Do you know how to shoot a gun?"

"No, I don't." She admitted glancing down at her boots. "My mother never liked having one in the house and only tolerated it with my dad. It's why I only use blades."

The two men exchanged looks. Connor stepped forward, reaching for the flintlock pistol in one of the holsters at his waist. "I could teach you if you wish."

"Really?"

"It is a useful skill," Achilles encouraged. "It just might save your life one day."

Connor extended the gun to her, and she took it cautiously, eyeing the medal work. "Do not be afraid of it." Connor said. She lifted it up, taking aim at the hay bale Connor had targeted. He came up behind her, tapping her boots with his to adjust her stance. With gentle fingers, he moved hers to the proper position.

"Don't lock you elbows," Achilles advised as Connor tapped the inside of her elbow indicting her to loosen them, "and brace for the kickback." Connor stepped back as she pulled the trigger.

Anita flinched at the loud bang the small gun caused. The three all looked to see if her aim was true. The corner of the hay bale had been hit.

"Not bad," Connor praised.

"But not good either," Anita muttered.

"Let me show you how to reload." He stepped back forward, taking out his other pistol for a demonstration.

* * *

The winter crept away, leaving behind the beginnings of new life on the Homestead. For most of their spare time in the season, Connor taught Anita how to shoot until she had a near perfect aim and could reload without guidance.

Anita had grown up in a family most would consider privileged. She had maids who cleaned and cooked for her. Five years ago, if Connor or Achilles told her to work, she would've scoffed and moved on. After a year on the streets, that bit of a spoiled girl got smacked out of her. She never would've thought she would miss the feeling of sleeping under a roof, but she had. She resented doing some chores around the manor at first, most of them involving any sort of cleaning. A week of sleeping in a bed with warm blankets and always with a full stomach reminded her of everything she had lost and grateful for what she had gained. She does everything she is asked of inside the manor now. It was the least she could for the old man and Connor.

She scrubbed viciously at the white robes in her lap. It amazed her to no end how much dirt and blood that man managed to cake into the threads. It didn't help that Achilles always wanted the robes to stay in near perfect shape. Connor never really liked it when she washed his clothes. It wasn't that he was ungrateful, he just felt it was his own responsibility, so she reminded him he had enough to worry about and took the dirty robe and tunic from his hands. She soaked it through the rivers waters again, hoping the soap would take more dirt along with it. After, repeating the process a few more times, she gave up. Most of the grime had disappeared down the river, but some stubborn parts remained. She couldn't think about whose blood it was that had stained the pure white. Some of it was clearly Connor's own. She had seen some of the scars on his arms. She even had to help patch him up once when he misjudged a branch and it snapped under him. The others on the Homestead seemed unaware of what he actually does, which relieved her to know that there weren't any other Assassins running about. The thought alone conflicted her. She stood to lay his robes over a tree branch to hang, moving on to Achilles clothes.

Was Connor really the last of his kind? The idea seemed so...depressing to her.

She finished rinsing out the white tunic and hung them besides Connors heavy robe. She was about to sit down and rest when she heard an unfamiliar laugh and splashing coming from upstream. Curiosity getting the best of her, she moved through the brush to discover the source. She stopped dead in her tracks when she spotted the source for all her internal struggles waist deep in the river, pushing loose wet hair out of his eyes.

She had admitted to herself she found Connor rather attractive long ago. Only recently however, did she stop blushing like a little girl every time she saw him in anything other than his usual white robes, like his sleeping tunic and breeches. She had seen him with his hair completely down and knows for a fact he has crazy bed head in the morning when he does sleep with it down. She had never, however, seen him naked before.

She could feel the heat rise in her face, her eyes growing wide, as she became clearly aware of what she had just walked in on. But she couldn't help but be slightly curious as well. Shaking out of the slight daze she had found herself in, she crouched low in the brush, immediately deciding that if she thought he began looking suspicious, she would return downstream without a second thought.

He dunked his head under the water, running his fingers through his hair to help get the dirt and grease out. She felt her head tilt, taking in his muscular and near perfect form. Even from this distance, she could see the scars that crossed over his tan skin, even a dark bruise in the middle of his back was clear as day. A dog barked from the shore that she couldn't see. He pulled his head up and called out to it in his native tongue, ringing out the water from his hair. The dog barked back and she saw Connor break out in a grin, as if he understood. Anita smiled to herself, enjoying seeing this side of someone usually so serious, even if it was from this distance.

"Enjoying the view?"

Anita jumped and gasped, almost falling over in the brush. She quickly looked over to Connor, making sure he hadn't notice. Finding him still concerned with his bathing, she turned on her own intruder. Myriam the huntress leaned back on a nearby tree, a smirk playing on her dirt coated face.

"Oh no, it's not like that!" Anita said, feeling her cheeks turn a shade darker. 'I heard something and came up to investigate."

"Of course," the huntress said sarcastically. She laughed quietly and offered a grin to the younger women. "It's nothing to be ashamed off. Connor's an odd one, aye, but he's also a looker as well. I can't blame you for being curious." She picked up her hunting rifle to move on through the woods. "A word of advice though: he does this about once a week." She winked at Anita then disappeared back into the forest. Anita stared after her, amused and slightly shocked, before laughing to herself. She stole another glance, before heading back to the drying clothes.

Back in the manor, she was setting the dishes away from the afternoon meal when she heard the front door open. She peeked around the wall, finding Connor in his simple white tunic, blue breeches and boots, looking up and down the hall before glancing into the dinning room she was in now. He had his bow strapped around his chest, a quiver full of arrows and tomahawk at his waist. His dark eyes fell on her and a small smile of what looked like a mix of relief and nervousness filled his features. He crossed over to her in three long strides, stopping still a few feet away. "I've been looking for you, Anita," he said carefully as if the words were new to him.

"Well, I've been here," she said, trying not to blush at the mental image that just ran through her head. There was an awkward pause, which didn't go undetected by her. "Are you okay?" She asked cautiously, spotting how he kept a hand behind his back.

"I-I wanted to give you these," he brought his hand from behind, revealing a small bouquet of pink wild flowers.

She felt herself break in a wide smile. "You brought me flowers? Why? I mean thank you, they're pretty, but why?" She took them from his extended hand, catching his confused look. There were five in total, and some had damaged pedals, no doubt from when he was running through the trees to come back to the manor.

"Prudence said you women like flowers. I gave most to Norris, but I thought you would also appreciate such a gift." She continued to smile, then gave him a confused look.

"You gave Norris flowers?"

"For him to give to another women he's trying to court."

"Oh." She crossed the room, sitting the bouquet down in the empty vase in the center of the grand dining hall. "Whose Norris trying to court?"

"It's too early to say-"

"It's Myriam isn't it?"

"How did you-"

"I knew it." She grinned triumphantly. "But besides that," she said, suddenly a bit awkward herself, "the flowers are perfect. Thank you."

He twisted his hands in front of him. "I-"

"There you two are." Achilles' hunched form limped into the dinning hall. He glanced over the flowers, but did not comment, instead standing to face Connor. "Could you come with me downstairs, there is a favor I wish of you."

Anita sat on the edge of the property outside what was hopefully a cave hidden behind a wall of crumbled rock, waiting for Connor to come with Norris. Achilles had asked Connor to retrieve something from the supposed cave and, doubting he would let her, she asked if she could accompany Connor. It surprised her when he agreed and she urged them to leave quickly before he changed his mind. She had grown to like being away from the manor, out in the surrounding forest.

"Do you think she even likes French men?" Anita perked her head up at the sound of Norris' accent, spotting the two stepping out of the nearby creek. Norris spotted her and said a hello as he placed the explosive in his hands down.

"Now I see why he encouraged us to enlist your services." Connor observed, taking in the caved in entrance.

"Pas de probleme. We blow it up." Norris walked back, gesturing for Anita to follow. "Be my guest," he said to Connor. "Duck and cover!" Anita covered her ears, crouching down beside Norris as Connor took aim. After a second pause, the serenity of the forest dispersed violently. The explosion was short, but shook through all three of them. "Ha! That's a nice one." She laughed at the miners enthusiasm.

"Thank you Norris."

"Doesn't look safe in there. Be careful. I'll be in the mine. What you said about Myriam is interesting." Anita waved a goodbye to the french miner, then followed after Connor into the revealed cave entrance.

"You were speaking about Myriam?" She asked, taking in the cave. The air around was thick, filled with dust, and smelled of mold.

"Yes. Norris was speaking of how the flowers did not work."

"I could have told you that." He gave her a sideways glance.

"What do you mean?"

Anita shrugged. "Myriam is a practical women, so a practical gift probably would've made more sense."

"Why didn't you say something before?"

"Because you seemed so sure in the flower idea."

There was a pause. "You seemed to like the flowers."

Anita just shrugged again. "They were nice."

"Hm," was all he said in return, letting the conversation drop. As they walked deeper in, the rock around crumbled at the walls. She flinched when a bit a crumbled stone landed on her head. "You know," she brushed out the dirt from her hair, "I'm beginning to think this isn't entirely stable."

"I agree, but Achilles requested we retrieve what ever is here." The rock path suddenly ended, turning into water. "It doesn't look too deep, come on."

"No thanks, I prefer to stay dry. You go ahead. I'll wait here." He nodded once and continued on. The path curved and she quickly lost sight of him, but could still hear his splashing steps echo against the rock. She leaned against the stone, ignoring the heavy sound of movement around her. A few minutes passed in silence. Suddenly the earth shifted around her, and in the distance she heard a loud thud. She pushed herself off the wall in panic. The rock was crumbling faster and the sound of crashing and banging echoed throughout. The cave was giving in.

Every ounce of her instinct yelled at her to run. To get out of the cave while she could still see the clear path and rock remained above her. But she hesitated.

Connor had yet to return. She stood at the edge of the dirt path, internally battling between running and staying. She heard splashing coming closer. As the rock around her began to crumble and give, Connor rounded the bend, dripping wet and a package draped over his arm. A sense of relief washed over her for just a second.

"Run!" He shouted, jumping out of the water.

"I wasn't about to leave without you!" She broke out in a sprint once his feet hit the dry dirt. She ran ahead of him, trying to ignore the falling rock. She jumped over and ducked under the falling stone, paying close attention to not trip. She spotted the light of day shinning in. Just a bit further...

The rock to the entrance caved suddenly and she hesitated fearing of being crushed. Luckly for her, Connor had no such hesitation. He ran up behind her, pulling her into him at the waist, and using the momentum from running, slid and rolled right under the last bit of space seconds before the entrance hid away once more. They both paused in the dirt, letting their breathing slow and being sure no area of their own bodies got injured.

"That was close." Connor said from above her.

"You don't say. Now get off!" For a second, she thought she saw his face flush when he realized the precarious position they had landed in.

"Sorry." He muttered, in what sounded like... embarrassment? He rolled off her, landing on his back in the dirt with a soft thud.

"It's fine." She picked herself up, glancing back at the rock wall and let out laugh. "We almost died!"

"I see no amusement in that fact," he noted following up after her. Anita just shook her head, feeling her heart slow to a normal pace.

"Whatever that is better be important." She gestured to the bundle in his arms.

"Of course it is. Why else would he want us to get it?"

"I'm just saying. Come on, let's head back." She took the lead through the forest, climbing over any fallen trees until they reached the main road to the manor. All was quiet until they came closer to where Terry and Godfrey lived.

"Do you hear that?" Connor asked, picking up his pace slightly.

Anita listened, trying to tune out the wind, leaves and birds for what he might of heard. Then in the distance, she heard a booming laugh. "Sounds like Godfrey." They both listened a bit longer as more voices became clear. "And the others. I wonder what they're doing?"

He said not a word and he walked on in the direction of what sounded like the Homesteaders. She followed closely behind. Alongside the road, the pair found just about all the residents sitting and drinking around a fire with a cooking pot steaming over the open flame. A man she didn't recognize stood behind a table, his hand on a keg of ale. There was a women who came up, filling a cup and handing it back to Terry. They were both rather large and appeared to be middle-aged. Connor stepped around the fire carefully, giving a wave to Godfrey as he approached. Anita came up behind, taking in the scene. Across the fire, Myriam sat next to Norris, smiling and waving her mug of ale around.

"Hello," the white-haired man greeted the two. "Would either of you like a draught of ale or some bread and cheese?" Connor held up a hand but before he could say anything, Godfrey came staggering up, a mug in one hand and putting the other on Connors back.

"Connor! This here is Oliver and that is Corrine. Great people! Ollie! This is Connor, the man I was talking about. The Lord of the manor!"

"We were passing through is all and met some of your townsfolk," the man named Oliver explained. "They were thirsty and we had some barrels in the back and-"

Connor brought up his hand, shaking his head gently, stopping him. "I am no lord and these are my friends, not my townsfolk. What brings you to the road with a cart full of spirits for sale?"

"We were inn keepers until the king took our inn for some military such-and-such and left us out on our round parts."

"Hey, you should settle here!" Norris called from the log he sat on. "We could use an inn."

"Good idea!" Myriam backed up, laughing as she slapped a hand on his back and took another swig from her mug.

"We would! But without the inn itself we don't have much choice and building one isn't cheap."

"We certainly have a need for something of the sort." Connor thought for a moment. "I will speak with my friends at the mill and see what we can do about building ourselves one. If it can be arranged, would you consider ending your search here?"

"Of course!" The busty woman, Corrine, came running up around Connor, arms wide to embrace Oliver. "Ollie! We'll have an inn again!" The two men shook hands and Anita smiled at the scene, stepping forward to stand beside Connor.

"Ah, would you care for a drink, young lady?" Oliver asked, moving to grab another mug.

"No thank you." Anita quickly replied.

"Actually, we best be going. It was a pleasure meeting you both." Connor said to the two.

"You as well. And you won't regret this." Oliver encouraged. After saying a quick goodbye to every one else, the pair soon found themselves back on the road to the manor on the hill. It wasn't until Connor was opening the door for her did Anita spoke up.

"Well...today was rather eventful." She stepped past him, entering the house.

"Indeed," Connor agreed and followed inside after her.


	8. Dead Man Walking

_Hey everyone, have a chapter! _

_In response to the lovely reviews: To KXR: Thank you for the words of encouragement! To Amy122: Ahh just a little late for you with this one! To Ninja Star Light: That was actually a Homestead Mission that I totally forgot was completely optional, so they were just a set of special Assassin robes. To Passion Paint: It makes me so happy that you enjoyed that part and it had that effect on you! And don't worry, I have no intention of letting this go. Thank you! To Sybele: I'm so glad that you like the last chapter, to be honest I had my doubts with it, but your review made me feel very reassured! And I'm so happy you like Anita, too! Thank you! And to the guest: Thank you for the kind words. Personally I see that first bit a little OoC for Connor, but we'll see now won't we? _

_A very warm and special welcome to the new follows and favourites and a thank you to all you lurkers out there, too!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Assassins Creed 3 or any related characters, however Anita and all her struggles are mine. _

* * *

Chapter 8: Dead Man Walking

"Anita, could you boil water for some tea?" Achilles asked without taking his eyes off the book before him. It was early afternoon and he sat in the study on his leather chair.

"Of course," she said, setting down the last plate and crossing over into the kitchen. She poured water from the basin into a kettle, lighting a fire underneath to let it boil. She crossed the kitchen to where a package of tea leaves was kept, preparing it for the water. There was knock on the door and seeing Achilles make no move, she placed the bag on the table and walked over to the front door. She opened the door to find a young light-haired gentleman standing there. He seemed taken aback when he saw her at the door.

"Hello, miss. Is Achilles here?"

She eyed him skeptically. "May I ask who-"

"Let him in, dear girl," Achilles came up, nudging her aside with his cane. "Good day, Benjamin. I trust you have some... interesting information." He stepped aside, gesturing for the younger man to step inside, leading him into the dinning hall. Anita continued on to check on the kettle, tuning out their conversation. She thought she heard her name being mentioned, but otherwise ignored the two as they spoke. "I'll go get the boy." Achilles said, walking past her to head into the basement where Connor had been for most of the day.

"Would you care for some biscuits? I believe we still have some from this morning." She called out to the man named Benjamin. "Or perhaps some tea?."

"Tea would be excellent, thank you..."

"Anita," she offered with a smile.

"Lovely name." He took in the room around him for a moment. "So tell me, Anita, how did one end up here?"

The kettle whistled and she crossed over to remove it from the fire. "Long story short, Connor is just too kind for his own good." She poured the water over the tea bag and handed him the cup.

Before Benjamin could respond, Achilles came back up the stairs, picking up a teabag as he crossed the kitchen. The old man plucked the kettle off the table and poured the hot water in his cup, just as they heard Connor running up the stairs after him. "Or you could just admit that you were wrong," Connors disembodied voice called from the other room.

"Oh child please, you've killed two men-one more salesman than soldier." He turned around, moving on to the next room where Anita and Benjamin stood. "You're gonna have to try a lot harder if you want to impress me."

"Is that so, old man?" Connor challenged. "Or perhaps we should step outside? I would gladly demonstrate how easily I could trounce..." his voice trailed off, finding Achilles and Anita accompanied by an unexpected guest. She had to bite her lip to not laugh at the embarrassment on his face as she walked past him back into the kitchen.

"Connor, this is Benjamin Tallmadge. His father was one of us, no need for secrecy. I think he has something he wants to say."

Connor looked over to the man, but Benjamin stopped, glancing behind him at Anita. He took notice. "She is trustworthy."

"Very well. Achilles tells me you've uncovered a plot to murder the Commander-in-Chief."

"Yes. But I have only false starts and dead ends to show for it."

"Not anymore, my friend." He set down his cup, walking forward and placing a hand on Connors back. "Thomas Hickey's your man- and I aim to help you catch him."

"How?"

"I'll explain on the way." He led them forward, towards the door and Anita felt her heart sink. "You and I are going to New York." The two were gone within the hour.

She didn't bother asking to tag along. mostly because she saw no reason to go. She never personally knew Thomas Hickey, her father never seemed to like the man, and they were to go to New York, not Boston. She felt confident they wouldn't run into any problems.

Well, she was, up until a few days ago. A vague letter had come to the door and she read it over before handing it off to Achilles while he was in the study. He deciphered the meaning behind each word and when his eyes met hers, she could see a slight panic in them. "Prepare to leave soon." He got out of his chair, walking with haste to his bedroom.

"Where are we going?" She asked, following after him, a million worst case scenarios racing through her mind. "Has something happened?"

"It's Connor. He's fine now, but he needs help." He waved her off. "Hurry up and get ready to leave."

"Right." She ignored the dark thoughts as she ran up the steps to get her things.

For an old man, Achilles could still ride hard. They arrived in New York, as rumors of a traitor being hung were whispered in the conversations around them. The pair met up with Benjamin outside of an inn. He invited them inside, to a room he was positive they could speak without the fear of unwanted ears.

Anita sat at the windowsill, watching the New York streets below to listen to the two men debate between one another on the best course of action. In an odd change of events, Connor was arrested alongside Hickey and they somehow managed to pin the assassination plot on him. Based on the conversations Benjamin had managed to overhear, there wasn't even going to be a trail for his innocence. He was to be hung in the coming days.

The idea of going in and breaking him out was the first thrown in and tossed out. If they did, it would just make it seem as if he really was guilty, not to mention they would all have a real crime hanging over their heads. So then came the topic of proving his innocence, but how does one do such a thing without revealing the ties of Assassins and Templars? Which then lead to the topic they were all hoping to avoid: they were going to have to let him be hung.

"Let them think they have the upper hand," Achilles said.

"Even Connor mustn't know until the near end," Benjamin added.

Anita pushed herself off her perch to stand over the table the two men sat around. "And how do you suggest we cut him down?"

"Simple." Benjamin reached into his coat and pulled out a short knife, placing it on the table. Anita picked it up, twisting the blade in her hand to admire the craftsmanship.

"Throwing knives?" She asked curiously.

"I trust you know how to use it?"

She shrugged. "It's been awhile." Achilles asked something else that she didn't hear as she took aim at a crack in the wall. She slipped into the position and brought her arm back, getting a sense of familiarity at the wound up. She let the knife fly and it embedded deep a few inches wide of the crack. She bit her lip. She was going to have to work on that.

She pulled the knife back out, walking back to the men to listen to the rest of the plan. "Now just have to get you close enough to actually cut the rope," Benjamin mused.

Anita thought for a moment. "I could disguise as a guard?"

"That...might actually work," Achilles said. "You'd be close to the gallows and none of the others would be expecting it."

"I could also provide support from the roofs. There will no doubt be guards up there during such an event."

"Sounds like we have a plan, gentlemen."

The three stood just inside an alleyway, watching as the crowd formed in front of the wooden gallows, a single noose hanging empty in the middle. An hour ago, Benjamin rushed into their room in the inn, reporting he heard a short two note whistle from the prison and they broke into action.

Anita and Benjamin had found a guard casually leaning against the edge of a building. She had muttered a quick apology, before plunging her dagger in the back of his throat, reminding herself as she dragged him in the alley and stripped off his uniform it was for Connor. Benjamin turned his back, out of courtesy and to keep an eye out, as she slipped off her jacket, ripping off the belt and setting it aside. She pulled her hair up in a tight bun before stripping down to her underthings. Using her belt, she bound her chest. She knew it wasn't going to be a huge problem, but she wasn't about to take any chances. She buttoned up the tunic, being mindful to put all the layers and straps on properly. She gave the okay for Benjamin as she placed the hat atop her head, stuffing in loose strands of brown hair inside the brim.

"That would do just fine," he said. He handed her a set of throwing knives and she strapped them to the inside of her coat after slipping her own dagger in the guards boots. She grabbed the musket as he hid the body. He picked up her clothes, stuffing them in a bag to hide after he assured her they would be there when they return. She had followed him through the shadows back to Achilles, and as they walked back it begun to rain a hard steady downpour. Despite the weather, the crowd had doubled and the people were speaking of how George Washington himself was to witness the event. It made her feel sick at how excited they all sounded.

"You two best get in position." Achilles said, leaning on his cane. They nodded and separated. Benjamin climbed up to the roofs and Achilles quickly disappeared in the growing crowd. She swallowed and took a deep breath, before stepping out of the alley, marching to the front of the gallows. Another guard across from her saw her movement and quickly grabbed his musket to match her steps. They stopped at the corners of the wooden frame, facing the crowd. She studied over the people before her, watching as they riled themselves up. They stood on two sides, a clear path from the road to the frame. She scanned over the heads, finding George Washington, flanked by his own guards, standing on the steps of a building, looking straight down the path. He would have a clear view.

Two men talking amongst themselves walked down the path. It took only a second for her heart to stop. She knew them.

The first was unmistakably Charles Lee, with his greasy dark hair and piercing blue eyes. The other was just as familiar. Her father smiled wickedly at something Lee had said, as if they weren't walking down a path flanked by people shouting for the death of an innocent man. She lowered her head slightly, praying to whomever was listening that neither would recognize her. When they walked past, letting Lee get to the gallows she cursed to herself. What was he doing here?

A bell tolled in the distance and the people around began shouting louder, waving fists and colorful insults. Her breath caught as a bloody and bruised Connor came around the bend, his arms tied behind his back and his head hung. His robes had been robbed from him, instead he just wore his blue trousers, his red belt and a grimy prison tunic. He didn't even have foot wrappings on. Two guards that matched her escorted him on either side, neither of them appearing concerned for their prisoner. He made a slow march down the path, ignoring the people around him.

Anita continued to keep her head low as Connor walked forward. She caught sight of her father, stalking in the back of the crowd, watching with an eagerness in his hazel eyes. She tore away to stare straight ahead.

A woman came storming out of the crowd and punched Connor in the side of the head, sending him to his knees, spitting on him while he was down. It took a lot of restraint on her part to not run out and help him, but she still flinched a bit. Achilles suddenly appeared from the mass of people, pushing the woman back with his cane. He leaned in and to anyone else it appeared as if he too was insulting the supposed traitor. She didn't catch their quick exchange, and it wasn't long until Hickey came up behind, pulling him to his feet and urging him forward. He led him to where she stood before the steps. Hickey gave him a harsh shove forward. For a brief second, she caught Connors' eye before sending him up the steps of the gallows, Hickey right behind to escort him under the noose as Charles Lee began addressing the crowd.

"Brothers. Sisters. Fellow Patriots." Hickey walked past her, disappearing in the crowd as she took a step forward. "Several days ago we learned of a scheme so vile, so dastardly- that even repeating it now, disturbs my being." Her eyes scanned over the people before her, trying to find her father. She spotted him leaning against a building on the far side of her, watching Lee speak. "The man before you plotted to murder our much beloved General." He paused a moment, letting the crowd shout their disapproval of the news. "Indeed. What darkness or madness moved him, none can say. And he himself offers no defense. Shows no remorse. And though we begged and pleaded with him to share what he knows, he maintains a deadly silence. If the man will not explain himself- if he will not confess and atone- what other option do we have, but this?" She felt her chest tighten, listening to Lee speak, watching the scene play out from the corner of her eye. Her hand twitched at her side. "He sought to send us into the arms of the enemy. And thus, we are compelled by justice to send him from this world. May God have mercy on your soul." There was a moment, where nothing happened. Suddenly there was a loud bang as the wooden frame opened underneath him. What felt like an eternity passed until she heard the call. In a flash, she drew a knife, taking quick aim and let the weapon fly. It stuck in the gallows, cutting the rope from the top. She had another knife drawn as Connor fell through.

The peoples encouraging shouts turned to fear as they realized what was happening. She could feel a hundred eyes on her, seeing the knife in her hand, before they started running. She caught sight of her father, checking over Lee as they rushed from the scene. Her father turned back and his hazel eyes rested on her. For a moment they stared at each other and she wondered if he could recognize her. Then she saw his lips move in disbelief, "Anita." She felt a rush of movement behind her, but she paid it no mind as she stared down her father. He tore away, pushing Lee forward and ran. As much as she wanted to find Connor, be sure he was okay, she felt her feet chase after her father instead.


	9. Chapter 9

_Just gonna casually slip this one in here... _

_40 followers, too? You guys are insane! Thank you!_

_(note to self: one day I will stop editing these before bed)_

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Chapter 9

The chase lasted for just a minute. She turned the corner and felt familiar arms grab her. She tried to squirm out of reach, fear twisting her gut, until she felt the true intent. The arms around her now reminded her of the ones from years ago, a comforting feeling before he sent her to bed, or when he returned from days out at work, bending down to kiss her atop the head before greeting his wife and son. The arms around her were those of a father, who had missed his daughter. She never realized she missed the feeling until now, but she still forced herself to tear away, stepping back to stare him down. As she took him in, a mix of emotions she had felt an awful lot swirled in her. Pain, grief and an odd pang of relief to name a few.

"What are you doing?" She hissed. He didn't respond. His eyes scanned over her, taking in every detail of her face. His hazel eyes softened and she let her guard slip away even more, suddenly ashamed of what she had said.

"You've grown so much..." His voice trailed off as he slowly shook his head. He reached out to embrace her, but she stepped back, her face hard once more.

"No thanks to you," she snapped. He glanced down for a second and when he looked at her again his eyes were somber.

"It was all a misunderstanding, my dear. I thought we had lost you over a misunderstanding."

"...Why didn't Andrew say so?"

In a flash, his expression changed. "You've come across Andrew?" He waved his hand before she could answer. "Nevermind, that's not important. What is though, is what are you doing?" Before she could step back he had his hands on both her shoulders, looking her in the eye. "Imagine my surprise when I get a letter from Master Lee of how they got their hands on an Assassin and have him on death row." He paused. "Now imagine my true surprise when I find my own daughter behind the hand that freed him. A sworn enemy!"

"Are you really that surprised?" She challenged. "I have disappointed you before." She waited to see his reaction, but he didn't respond. "Besides, I didn't save an enemy, I saved an innocent man from being wrongfully executed. I saved a friend."

He paused before answering to study her. "You wouldn't kill him and now you wouldn't let him die," he muttered. Her eyes narrowed.

"Don't think I've also forgotten about that. I understand Johnson was your friend, dad, but did you really tell the mercenaries to get us both?"

"Of course not! I told you it was an awful misunderstanding." He pulled her in a tight hug. "You're my one and only daughter Anita. I love you." She felt him kiss the top of her head. She was unsure of what to feel at the moment, but she knew what to say.

"I love you too, dad." Then an image popped in her head and she broke away. "But I mustn't stay, I have to make sure he's alright."

"What are you talking about? You're coming home, my dear."

"You have to understand, dad." He studied her carefully as she took a step back. "I would love to come home, but please. He's a friend."

His eyes narrowed. "You're not sided with them, are you?"

"No. Nor am I with you."

"Cole!" They both turned at the sound of Charles Lee's voice. "Cole, where did you go? We must leave at once." The father and daughter turned back and stared at each other. His brow furrowed together.

"Are you coming?"

"No, I have to-"

"Anita. If you walk away from me, you will be considered an enemy to the Order. And be treated as such. You understand what that means, my dear?"

"...Yes," she glanced at her stolen boots, "but I didn't mean for it to happen. That's not exactly the life I planned."

"Cole!" Lee hissed, closer than before.

"You're just going to throw it all away again aren't you?" He spoke quickly, trying to get the words out before Lee found them. "I thought joining the Order was all you wanted? Everything you trained for."

"It was...but Connor-" she stopped as he suddenly tore away, making a sound of disapproval.

"I think I understand, my dear."

"Dad..."

"_Cole!_"

"You best be off. But know if you cross paths with any of us again, it may not be civil."

She stared in disbelief before saying, "take care with Andrew." She gave a last look, before running off, just as she heard Lee come in contact with her father.

"Come along. We best hurry."

She dashed back on the street, skidding to a stop in front of the empty gallows. Her eyes scanned over the street, trying to look through the steady downpour.

She found him at the end of the street, standing over what looked like Hickey's body just before the steps, surrounded by soldiers. He had his tomahawk in one hand as he spoke to a man with a cigar in his mouth. She spotted Achilles to the side, under the awning of a building and Benjamin watching from the steps, her bag of clothes in his hand, but she gave them no further thought as she ran towards the scene.

"Connor!" Anita pushed past the guards, ignoring the mix of expressions they gave her as her stolen hat flew off. Connor had just enough time to look towards the sound of her voice before Anita's arms wrapped around his neck in a tight hug. He took a step back to steady himself from the collision, uncertain of what to do. He felt her bury her face in the chest of his bloody prison tunic, and he returned the gesture, relishing in the warm feeling it gave him in the cold rain.

They stopped at an inn just outside the city. After getting all of Connors items from the prison, he wanted them to leave for Philadelphia immediately. They didn't make it that far before his time in the prison took its toll, but it was Achilles who requested they stop for the night knowing Connor wouldn't.

Unsurprisingly to her, she couldn't sleep that night. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw a limp body hanging from a thin length of rope, as if her mind refused to believe Connor had survived, even though she could hear him breathing in the bed next to hers. For a minute, she watched his chest move up and down in a slow rhythm, reminding herself he was safe for now. She turned around and closed her eyes once more, but again still saw the terrifying mental image._ You were too late_, her mind whispered. _But I can see he is safe, _she would argue back, but to no avail. With a heavy breath, she gave up and decided she needed air. Quietly she tossed her blanket off, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She pulled on her boots, remembering to slip her dagger inside from where it rested on the nightstand. On quiet feet, she snuck out of the room. The inn below was well-lit and warm, but not very welcoming. She ignored the drunkards that were still hanging around, exiting the inn from the back, remembering seeing a ladder to the roof. Which is where she sat now.

The stars above her twinkled mockingly at her. They are so peaceful and beautiful, seemingly without a care. The sky had cleared up and she could see so many. She tore away, instead pulling out the necklace around her neck. Her fingers grazed the red cross, but it no longer represented the Order it should have. It filled her mind with thoughts of her family. Especially her father. Should she have went with him? She wasn't sure and it bothered her to no end.

She heard a grunt coming behind her. Quickly, she stuffed the necklace back under her blouse, her other hand slipping inside her boot. She relaxed when Connor pulled himself over the railing. "Hey," she called out quietly, pushing her hair out of her face.

"Could you not sleep as well?" He asked, walking up to stand beside her. He was back in his Assassin robes, but only had his tomahawk strapped at his waist.

"Can you blame me?"

"I suppose not," he pulled his hood down and sat, crossing his legs. They sat in a mutual silence, both wanting to say something, but both unsure how. Connor leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees and wringing his hands together. "I never properly thanked you for cutting me down. Thank you."

She smiled. "I guess we're even now, huh?"

"It appears so." They fell into silence for a while. She fought the heavy feeling that threatened to swallow her whole.

"There's something-," they began in unison then both stopped, "sorry."

"You go," Connor encouraged.

"No, you should." He paused, then let out a breath.

"You are aware that I am...busy to say the least," he began. "Ever since I started training, protecting my people and stopping the Templars has been the only thing on my mind. But as of late, my mind has been filled with thoughts of you as well." She listened curiously, wondering where he was going with his little speech. He paused and lowered his head, letting out a sigh. "I have never been good at these situations." She stayed silent, letting him take all the time he needed. He began again. "I have never bothered with looking into a... relationship, for I believe I would not have the time for such things. I would not make a good partner for other reasons as well."

"Connor..."

"I understand if you wish otherwise..."

"Are you trying to court me?"

"...I believe so. I am not too familiar with how pioneers do such an event. Am I doing it right?"

"Better than most I would say." She let out an awkward laugh, turning to look at him, only to find he had been watching her as he spoke. She allowed a moment to take in his expression. The gentleness in his dark eyes was even more prominent, despite one being bruised and purple. Earlier, she had helped with cleaning the cuts on his upper lip and brow, trying to be gentle around his bruise. She flinched every time he winced slightly at her touch. He studied her nervously, twisting his hands together in front of him, awaiting an answer. She felt her heart speed up, beating loudly in her chest and wondered briefly if he could hear it. She felt herself lean in slightly, a strange wanting feeling spreading in her stomach.

"Connor," she repeated, just a whisper in the night air. He placed a calloused hand gently on her cheek. She felt him hesitate for just a moment before he brought his lips to hers.

The kiss lasted for a brief moment, before he tore away. "I am sorry," he whispered, trying to move away. "I should not have..."She shook her head, catching his attention.

"Don't be." She brought her lips to his once more, letting her arms wrap around his neck to deepen the kiss.


	10. Chapter 10

_Hey Everyone! Just gotta say:51 followers! Wow, thank you guys so much I'm just, wow. And here I am with a short chapter as thanks..._

_To the reviewers: I'm glad everyone seems to like the ending of the last chapter, haha! To TheScoutAssassin: Thank you! And I will admit to you that I kinda forgot a bit about the recruits... And I agree because I do feel like I rushed out the first chapters a bit, but what can one do? (this is also my first multi chap fic, but now I'm just fishing out excuses haha). To Ninja Star Light: I agree... To TC: Wow, thank you! It's really nice to know you find I'm portraying his character correctly, so thank you! To Life Is Like An Hourglass: Hopefully I keep that attention! To EpicCritic: Ah yes, the age-old dilemma for OCs. I'm gonna try real hard to keep her from falling in that group though. _

_A warm welcome to all the new followers and thanks to all the lurkers as well! _

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Chapter 10:

The room around was warm and had a welcoming feeling compared to the cold, bitter rain Anita and Connor had been in moments before. She shook in her coat, hearing the door shut as Connor walked in behind her. They had arrived in Boston after a miserable ride at best.

It had been several weeks since they were last in this town. After returning to the Homestead from Philadelphia, where Connor ended up missing his opportunity to speak with the Commander-in-Chief. He had made his rounds a few days after coming home, checking in on everyone to see if they were doing alright, to discover Prudence was with child. After the congratulations were said, the concern for the need of a doctor was the next topic of conversation. Which led to where they are today. Warren had mentioned a Doctor Lyle who might be interested in such an opportunity. It was a nice change of pace, though, as they rode to Boston, despite the weather.

She sat on the edge of one of the beds against the wall in the room to pull off her boots. She stretched out her toes as Connor crossed over to a small table under the one window on the far wall. She brought her up her legs, hugging them to her chest, watching silently as he began the process of unstrapping his array of weapons.

There had been many times she thought the night on the roof had just been a dream. A bitter-sweet dream her mind conjured to torment her more so. That, no, she had not in fact kissed him as deeply has she had, or giggle as she wrapped his arms around her, or take a slight pleasure in the noise he had made as she abandoned his lips for the curve of his neck. Or briefly wonder, as they sat in a comforting silence a few moments later, how he was quite good at something he had apparently never done before. Well, not that she was an expert either.

But then he would do or say something that caught her off guard, even in the short time they had spent on the Homestead since then. A small compliment on her smile as she cooked, watching her from over the papers he had brought from the study into the kitchen. Or a light kiss on her knuckles as they parted ways in the hall for the night, reminded her otherwise. Not to mention sent her heart racing. It was in those moments that any doubt she had of not going with her father disappeared.

However, back in her own bed, once the moment passed, her thoughts conflicted once more. There had already been a few more nights spent alone overlooking the Aquila from atop the hill.

Connor shrugged off his heavy robe, shaking it to get the remaining rain water off.

She had to tell him, she knew that much. Before anything else were to happen in their blooming courtship. He had so much on his mind already, though. Not to mention she was afraid, to say the least, of how he would react to such news. She trusted he wouldn't harm her, but there was still a hint of doubt which stilled her tongue. He was a big man and she knew if his intention were true, he could overpower her in a second.

She fell on her back, wrapping the blankets around her, not giving a care on who slept in them last.

"Go on and sleep if you wish," she heard Connor say. "I may not be here when you wake in the morning." That caught her attention.

She pulled the blanket off her face, propping up on one elbow to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"There were leads I never had the opportunity to follow-up on from when I were last here," he explained. "I wish to have a look around before catching any attention."

"Oh." She fell back on her back, studying the grain of the wooden ceiling. There was a soft _thud_ as Connor pulled off his own boots, letting them drop to the floor. She turned her head to see as he picked up his tomahawk and her dagger, placing them on the night side table between them. "Do you have names?' She asked, trying to sound offhandedly.

He shrugged and gestured to his robes, "A list is in there. Why do you ask?"

"Just curious." He nodded, standing over her. She tilted her head up, trying to see what he was doing. She got her answer as he bent over, placing a small kiss on her forehead.

"Sleep well, then." She smiled as he climbed under the sheets of his bed.

"You, too." She crawled up her bed to lay her head on the pillow, blowing out the candle between them before wrapping herself in the warmth of the blankets once more.

It had been a long couple hours as she struggled to stay awake, listening as Connor fell deeper in his slumber, while still trying to keep her own breathing a steady rhythm. She knew if she told herself to just sleep for a bit, she would wake with the sun. So now she lay and listened as Connor's breaths turned into soft snores.

Taking the chance, she began to slip off the bed. There was a squeak and she froze, but Connor's snoring never ceased. She continued on, testing the wooden floor with her weight before standing. On silent feet she crossed over to the robe draped over a chair, pausing a moment to listen.

With careful movements she explored the pockets, feeling as if she was betraying an unspoken rule. She leaned forwards, delving deeper in the inside pocket and felt a slight tug around her neck. Her fingers grazed paper and she didn't give it a second thought.

A triumphant smile tugged at her lips as she unfolded the letter, bringing it under the window to catch the moonlight. She skimmed over the scribble of the first paragraph going straight to the listed names.

She cursed internally at the first name; Alcott. She didn't bother reading the other, for her family name was listed twice.

Racking her brain for an idea she glanced back at Connor. Three solutions came to mind. One being to just scribble out the names, while another being to re-write it. Neither of them seemed all that logical and she could see ending in the same result. With a heavy sigh, she folded it closed and walked back to her bed, slipping it between the mattress and frame.

She had to tell him, she decided. Tomorrow.


	11. Chapter 11: All According to Plan?

_Hey everyone! Have a chapter! _

_In response to the reviews: To Amy122: I agree completely. Too bad Anita has been hiding this from the beginning though...To Jackattack5478: You detected correctly, haha and thank you! To Designation Drift: Ah thank you! To Epic Critic: I love your reaction! Ahah oh man I'm so happy you think this is good! And thank you! To Blood Mistress Misery: Thank you so much! And I'll be keeping an eye out for future reviews, maybe...? haha but thank you anyway! And To Vheigfshjc: (I cheated and copied pasted it) I've been using cliffhangers a lot recently huh? And Thank you! _

_A big thank you to the new followers! Seriously, it amazes me and makes my day! _

_In case I don't see you guys until after: I hope you all have a Happy (and safe) New Year! _

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Chapter 11: All According to Plan?

It was a knock on the door that woke her. The room was bright with the late morning sun, a pleasant surprise from the last few days. She rubbed the sleep from her eye. A quick glance around as she pushed herself up revealed Connor's prediction was true. It was as if he hadn't even been there last night.

Three more knocks came from the door. "Just a moment," she called. She rubbed her face, patted down her hair, and straightened her blouse, trying to make it seem as if she hadn't just woken up. She walked around the bed to the door, pulling it wide open expecting Connor, but instead found herself looking into matching eyes.

"Andrew?"

"Hey," he glanced over her shoulder, "mind if I come in?"

She shook her head, stepping aside to let him enter, suddenly feeling wide awake. She shut the door and faced him. "What are you doing here?"

"Come on now. You didn't think no one saw the two of you enter town last night?" At the flash of panic in her eyes he added, "Don't worry though. I was the only one on guard." She nodded, feeling slightly reassured.

"Still didn't answer my question."

"What? I am not allowed to visit my big sister?" Andrew moved to sit on the edge of the closest bed, taking the hat off his shaggy hair. He cast a wary eye around the room.

"He's not here," she answered the unsaid question, walking over to sit on the bed Connor had slept on.

"I know," he said. "Just looking."

Her eyes fell to the hand gripping the side of the bed, finding something that wasn't there last time. "You have a ring?"

"Huh? Oh! Yeah." He held up his hand, proudly showing off the Templar Knight ring. "Dad and Church were my sponsors."

She wanted to curse, but she held her tongue. Instead she leaned forward, pulling the paper out from under the mattress. She tossed it in his lap before sitting back. "I stole that from him last night." Catching the tone in her voice, he opened it carefully, as if afraid it would suddenly catch fire. She watched as he read through, until his eyes looked back at her, shocked.

She snatched it out of his hands. "You're welcome," and slid it back to where it was before.

"Did you read that?"

She shrugged. "Enough to know you and dad are on it."

"Enough to know you are on it too?"

"What?"

Andrew pulled the letter back out and handed it back to her. She opened it and looked straight for her family name. Andrew was listed first, the status of him as an active member checked and listed as 'son of Cole'. Underneath, Alcott was listed once more, followed by her own name. The status checked as unknown, but she still listed as 'daughter of Cole'.

She closed it once more and calmed herself. "He doesn't know the family name," she said, reassuring herself more than him.

"You never told him did you?" He asked, slightly surprised.

"I had no real reason to." She pushed herself up walking over to lean on the desk. "I plan on telling him today though."

"You really think that's a good idea? Because I remember you telling me to watch my back so your_ friend_ didn't stab it. And that was before I was even in the Order!" He cast a glance around, and tried to remember to keep his voice low discussing such things. A mix of anger and fear flickered behind his eyes.

"We're a little more than friends..." She admitted.

He blinked in disbelief. "You're...courting?" She simply nodded. "Why? No, of course you are. I don't even know why I'm surprised. You've been living together for the past few years, right?" He lowered his voice, not giving her the chance to answer. "What are you expecting to happen, though? For him to one day go to dad and mom and ask for a blessing? I for one don't see that happening."

"I don't know what I'm expecting," she admitted dismissively. Before he could argue she changed the subject. "How is mother, by the way?"

He shrugged, calming down slightly. "As well as any mother can be with her family in two."

"You say that as if it were my fault."

He opened his mouth, but a short string of knocks at the door cut him off.

The bother and sister glanced between each other. The door knob twisted and as the door slowly began to open, Anita dashed forward, pulling Andrew up by the shoulder as she passed, and slammed the door shut. "A moment please!" She called to whoever was on the other side.

Andrew moved as if to sit back on the bed, but when he saw the glare Anita was giving him, he showed his palms and backed off. He frantically searched around, Anita realizing too late he was finding a place to hide. She cursed quietly, gesturing to the window, but he shook his head.

"I swear to God..." She threatened to deaf ears. He ignored her and opened the door to the wardrobe against the wall opposite the beds. "Really?" She hissed. He continued to ignore her as he climbed in. He gave a thumbs up before shutting the door on himself. She was about to go over and pull him out when they knocked on the door again. Accepting this was happening she brushed the hair out of her face and pulled open the inn door.

She smiled and stepped aside, letting Connor in. She closed the door as he pulled down his hood, casting a curious eye around the room. "Did I wake you?" He asked, walking to the desk.

She shook her head, moving to stand in front of the wardrobe. "No, I've been awake. What have you been up to?" He pulled out a rag and a click filled the room. He answered her question as he turned around, wiping the blood from the blade at his wrist. "Right." She heard a slight shift of motion beside her and she moved her weight to one leg to cover it. "Do you still wish to find the doctor today or..?"

"Actually, Doctor Lyle seemed pleased to hear Prudence is with child," he responded matter of factly. "He will be moving shortly."

"Of course," she laughed. "Is there anything else we should do in town or should we head back then?"

"There is a friend I need to speak with," he flicked his wrist and the blade retracted back in its pocket, "but that can wait 'til later. Do you wish for something?"

She allowed a mischievous smile. "I can think of several," she said hoping her tone was enough for revenge towards Andrew. "But first, there's actually something I need to talk to you about. Do you want to go for a walk?"

He eyed her carefully. "I feel this is important." He cast a glance out the window. "There are less ears in here."

"I suppose," she shifted her weight and sighed. "You might want to sit down for this."

Connor pulled the chair out, spinning it around to sit in it backwards. He folded his arms at his wrists, leaning back slightly to listen. She sighed again, sitting on the bed closest to him, wondering where to start. Her eyes fell on the letter they had left on the bed. She held it in her hands a moment before handing it to him with an apologetic look. As she leaned forward however, she felt the chain around her neck move more so than what the action would have allowed. She ignored it once he took the paper from her hand.

"...My family name is Alcott," she explained. "I have a little brother named Andrew. Our father's name is Cole. I shouldn't have kept this hidden from you." She watched his eyes sweep back and forth, confusion seeping into his features. She looked down at her feet and continued. "I knew what you really were long before you told me. An Assassin, I mean.

"My father, as his father before him, has been very loyal to the Order long before I was born. My family traveled to the colonies as the branch here grew in strength." He had stopped reading. She could feel his intense stare. "I was trained and taught in hopes of continuing my family line with the Templars. It's why I met you."

In an instant, she was forced on her back, pinned on the bed. She opened her eyes, finding Connor above, his own ablaze. Before either could speak, the chain around her neck shook, as if itself was afraid. A second later the charm hiding under her blouse shot out, hitting both Connor and her's faces. He let go to grasp the charm and she was too confused to think twice. He grazed the metal cross with his thumb and let out a breath. He pinned her down again, his eyes on fire once more. "Are you a spy?" He spat at her.

"No! Please..."

"What information did you give?"

"None. Connor, please."

"For how long?" He shouted, but his voice was shaking.

"I never have, I swear," she choked on what she realized later was a sob.

He opened his mouth, but instead his eyes widened when something collided in his side. Two bodies hit the floor with a heavy thud. Anita opened her eyes, forgetting when she had shut them, and frantically pulled herself over to peer over the side of the bed, where the sound of two struggling men came from.

Andrew smacked Connor's face away, but the young native had him pinned, bringing an arm back.

"Don't hurt him!" She shouted, her voice sounding more confident than she actually felt. Both hesitated, casting a wary eye over to her, but it was Andrew who used it to his advantage a moment later. His fingers wrapped around the pistol strapped at his side. "No, don't!" She warned, but it was too late.

Before Connor could react, the younger boy slammed the butt of the gun in the side of Connor's head. He fell to the ground as Andrew pushed himself up. Connor's eyes flickered as Anita quickly slid off the bed, coming to his side. Andrew was grinning, feeling victorious, until he saw Anita's broken expression, and his face fell.

"Anita..." He had just looked up for a second before something hard collided with his head. He felt the ground before nothing else.

Anita stood, tossing Connor's pistol on the bed gently. She wiped at her face, looking between the two unconscious boys at her feet. Anything she had felt had been replaced by pure frustration at how the situation ended. "God dammit all."


	12. Chapter 12

_Hey everyone! Hope your holiday was fantastic! I come in the new year dealing with The Walking Dead aftershock (Amazing game) and with a new chapter! This isn't even everything I wanted to have in this chapter, but it started getting a little long to me. Anyway. _

_In response to the reviews: I'm relieved a majority of you see Connor reacting like that to be honest! To Jackattack5478: Haha, it's alright! Just that review itself makes me smile! To Amy122: Hopefully this answers your question a bit? To EpicCritic: Ahh thank you! Oh my god it makes me laugh that you're fangirling over this! I love it! Ahaha, To Dbkgfjvfjlkh: Haha, thank you! I'm really happy you like this! To Kayce Skywalker: Thank you! To Blood Mistress Misery: Oh, wow the best? Oh Wow thank you so much! To Designation Drift: Ha! No kidding! And thank you, I'm glad you're enjoying it! To moirabb: It was the heat of the moment for Andrew! Haha. Poor guys though, huh? haha. To Mehila: AH thank you! Wow, I'm really happy you like this! And that you like Anita, too! And no worries, I would say your English is pretty excellent! To brijane: Thank you! I'm not giving any hints than what's in this chapter! Haha. To darksoulrose: Hey another rose username! haha. But I thank you for finding this awesome! And To PlainJane: I'm glad you're enjoying this! And of course it was the heat of the moment! Thank you! _

_And a warm welcome and thanks to the new followers and favorites Seriously, never stops amazing me. And a thanks to all you lurkers as well! _

_Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed 3 or any related characters. However Anita and Andrew are mine. _

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Chapter 12:

The ring in her hand appeared to glow as she twirled it between her fingers. The inscriptions engraved around the band were intriguing, unlike anything she had ever seen before. She felt an unfamiliar yearning to learn all she could about the odd little piece of jewelry, especially the apparent magic property it possessed.

It has been almost an hour since the boys had fought. She moved Andrew to her bed, apologizing to his unconscious form, despite the small part of her believing he deserved it. With all the strength she could muster, she pulled Connor on top his bed, grateful he had at least landed close to it. As she carefully dragged him to the pillows, her necklace fought to escape once more. Curious and confused, she searched though his pockets, silently marveling at the body she felt beneath, until she pulled out a little ring which made her necklace nearly choke her as it tried to escape from it. She left her necklace on the bedside table, leaving Connor and Andrew's side to sit at the desk, her eyes never once leaving the ring. Anita was captivated by it and she knew it.

A groan from the beds tore her attention away. She looked up just as Connor twitched awake, bringing an arm up to rub the forming bump on his head. She set the ring down, watching with a careful eye as he came to his senses. He took in Andrew across from him, pushing himself up to lean against the wall. He reached out and grasped her necklace, running his fingers along the cross. He looked up over at her and his eyes narrowed slightly. For what felt like an eternity he glared at her. She cautiously wondered what was going through his head. Then he sighed and let his head hang. "Explain," was all he said. So she did.

She told him everything. From her father witnessing Johnson's death, how he was to die by her hand, how it has haunted her since, how she found herself falling for him, yet it became her mission to hide her family from him and him from them, especially Andrew.

"I've been afraid of learning of his death since I found you, really." She looked over his unconscious form, Connor following her gaze. "He's young, Connor. I believe he doesn't even know what he got himself into."

"He is a Templar."

"Yes, but I stand by what I say. He's doing everything for our father since I left."

"...Are you?"

"Not officially. It's just in my blood." She held up a hand before he could say anything. "I have been with you long enough to believe in your side of this struggle though. I just prefer to stand alone now."

"I am none to judge one for such backgrounds." He sighed, then lowered his head. "I am sorry. For attacking you."

"...As am I"

"No. It was unacceptable. I would've... I almost hurt you."

"But you didn't. I know where that anger came from, Connor, it is fine. Just don't do it again." She added, then offered a smile, feeling the tension between them slowly ease away. She picked up the ring beside her and held it out so he can see. "What is this?"

"A treasure which drove a man insane," he stated evenly. She studied it, feeling the strange power emitting from her fingertips and understood. He wrapped the chain of her necklace around his fingers, holding it up to let the charm hang. "Trade?"

"My mother gave that to me," she said, pushing herself out of the chair. He studied it again and nodded, an understanding coming in his eyes. He held it out as she sat on the side of the bed, placing the magic ring between them. She gathered the charm from the bottom, taking his hand, mindful to not activate the blade at his wrist. She carefully brought his hand to hold in her lap. He watched as she played with his exposed, rough fingers, a small smile tugging at her lips as she did so. He found he was rather fond of that smile.

He tore his eyes away as the teen across from them moved in his sleep. It was not hard to see the resemblance between him and Anita. It suddenly occurred to him that she had kept an important aspect of her life hidden from him, simply because she was afraid, but the way he had responding only backed up her reasoning for doing so. She had reminded him of a doe that became aware of his presence a second too late. He shut his eyes, ashamed and felt his fingers intertwine with hers.

"He's my brother," she said quietly, sounding dangerously close to a plea. He opened his eyes to find her watching Andrew as he slept peacefully, a similar bump forming on his head.

"What do you propose?"

She was quiet as she thought, absentmindedly tracing an unknown pattern on the back of his glove. "We bring him. Back to the Homestead." He tore his hand away.

"No."

"Hear me out," she said repositioning herself to sit cross-legged in front of him. "I can keep an eye on him and he'll be one less you have to worry about. We can stay at the inn if you don't trust him in the manor."

"And put the others at risk?"

"I can assure you, Andrew's no fighter. Plus, I can keep him in check."

"If he does anything to hinder anyone, I may not still my hand again."

"First off, he was helping me and if that's the case, then we can stay here and you go back by yourself, "she challenged.

"No," he said carefully, "I will feel better with you on the Homestead."

"I will, too," she admitted. "As long as Andrew is allowed as well."

The young native glanced between the two siblings, rolling his head back with a groan. "I say this with caution. He may come," he said hanging on his breath.

It was suddenly yanked out of him as Anita threw her arms around him, pulling him in an awkward hug. "Thank you," she whispered into his chest. "Thank you." She sat back upright before he could return the gesture, a genuine smile on her face. "And you never know, you two might find you actually like each other."

He glanced over at the young teenager and made a sound of distaste. "I highly doubt it." He faced her again, about to add something when she stopped him with her lips. It took a moment for him to understand what she was doing. Just as his lips moved to kiss her back, she broke them apart, leaving the odd hunger that suddenly flared to die in his stomach. He found her with her cheeks a shade of light pink, and a playful smirk dancing on her features.

"You like me."

"That is true," he assured as she sat back.

The two stood over Andrews sleeping form at the edge of the bed, debating on their next course of action. Connor had left and returned over an hour later from speaking with a friend. She would've had him convinced that's all they did, if it weren't for the fresh blood he had missed on his blade. She had offered him her handkerchief, which he took gratefully with a small smile. But now they have no reason to stay in the city, apart from Andrew, and Connor had other business on the Homestead that required his attention.

"I really didn't think I hit him that hard," Anita said sheepishly, staring at her brother.

Connor folded his arms in front of him. "We are wasting time staying here. Everything is ready to leave except for him."

"Well... What do you propose then?"

He leaned up against the wall and thought for a moment. "...There is a rope in my saddle bag."

She shot him a dirty look. "I'll just wake him up." She sat on the side of the bed, pushing her hair out of her face. She called his name, gently shaking his shoulder until he stirred and pushed her hand away. "Andrew, it's time to wake up."

He muttered something she couldn't comprehend, rubbing his head.

"It's just a little a bump. I knocked you out before you did anything else. Come on, we're leaving."

"Leaving?" He pushed himself up, taking notice of Connor against the wall. "What is he doing here?" Connor's eyes narrowed slightly.

"We were speaking while you were out," Anita explained. "Connor's agreed to let you stay on the Homestead with us."

"Wait, what?" He asked confused, looking wide awake now.

"You'll be safer with us." He scoffed so she corrected herself. "With me. At least until things die down a bit."

"You mean... run and hide?"

"In a sense... but it'll be for your own good. If you don't like that idea, then know it'll at least give me peace of mind."

"Just abandon the Order?"

"You can stay. Anita may not be here next time our paths might cross," Connor said, a hint of a threat hanging in the air.

"Oh, I get it now."

"So, you'll come with us?" Anita asked hopefully, deciding on ignoring the threat.

"I feel like I am whether I agree to it or not," he said defeated.

She shrugged. "I can always knock you out again." Andrew ran a hand through his shaggy hair, debating. Connor watched him and thought perhaps Anita was right about the teen. Perhaps he wasn't as loyal to the Order on a deep personal level like the others. Perhaps it was an odd family obligation Anita managed to run from.

The boy sighed, "I'll go." She embraced him then bounded off to double-check the room making sure they had everything before starting the trek back to the Homestead. He caught Andrew watching him with a weary eye, and when the boy realized he had been caught, he responding by narrowing his eyes. Connor gave the boy a suspicious look and thought perhaps he was even more loyal than either thought.


	13. Chapter 13

_Hey everyone! I come in with a long filler, I guess, so sorry. Although, I do hope you enjoy and that I got everything right. Anyway!_

_In response to the reviews: To Kayce Skywalker: I'm happy you enjoyed it! And oh man yes, I cried so hard at the ending! To Britt: Oh wow thank you! It's such a relief you find Connor in character too! I found him pretty hard to write at first, but he's gotten easier. And no worries, I understand completely what you mean! To Amy122: Haha no kidding. And she was more or less, a junior member! To the Guest: Haha thank you! To Jackattack5478: I sure hope I keep this interest going and thank you for reviewing! To Darksoulrose: Basically it's all fun and games until someone tries to kill the other, haha. To PlainJane: Okay, can I just say your review almost made me cry? I'm not even sure why, just... thank you! Again, it's such a relief to hear I'm keeping Connor in character. I will say at this point I have just about everything planned out and I don't want to say anything, but you'll find out pretty quick. But again, Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! To Margarita: AH! Thank you! To Designation Drift: I don't know why, but I laughed at your review! Haha. And to Change of Hear: He says why he didn't in this chapter! And thank you!_

_A warm welcome to the new followers, as well! And a huge thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read and/or review! They just mean so much, so thank you. Okay I'm done...Hope you enjoy this chapter!_

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Chapter 13:

Anita watched from the mouth of the cave as the light shower of rain quickly turned into a heavy downpour. The three hadn't made it that far before Connor looked to the sky and steered them off path. He had said there was a cave nearby for shelter from the oncoming storm. He slid off the horse, gathering whatever he could find for the start of a fire. After making sure the cave was clear of any unwanted dangers, Connor set out to go hunt. Andrew had voiced suspicions, but Anita waved him off, getting started on building a small camp fire. The air was a bitter cold and neither needed Connor to know snow would be coming soon.

A flame sparked to life and she gave a triumphant grin. Andrew laughed and fetched the blankets. "How is your headache?" She had asked, keeping her attention on not letting the flame die.

"I think it'll be gone in the morning." He handed her a blanket before wrapping another around himself and sitting across the fire from her.

"Are there no more blankets?" She asked concerned.

He shook his head, removing his hat to run a hand through his hair. "Not that I could find."

She bit her lip. "I'll just share with Connor then." Andrew made a noise. She glanced up at him, finding he was clearly not fond of that idea. "You act as if he has the pox."

"Can you blame me? The guy attacked you! How are you okay with this?"

"He thought I was someone I am not."

"What if I wasn't there?"

"He would've stopped."

"And if he hadn't?"

"We're not having this discussion," she stated sharply, concentrating on the fire.

"I'm just saying, Anita. You've repeated to me he's this great and wonderful man, but all he has done has proved otherwise. You say I need protection. Clearly it's the other way around..."

She glared at him, briefly wondering if he spoke the truth or simply being an annoying little brother. "Is that why you agreed to come so easily?"

He shrugged. "That and you've been gone for what? Two, three years?" He paused and she caught sight of a blush before he lowered his head. "You're my sister and I've missed you."

She looked up at him, any previous tension gone. "I've missed you too. Everyone, really... but what can one do?" She offered a smile, then brought her attention back to the growing fire. Andrew stopped, a horrid realization coming to his face.

"...I never told mom I left." She stopped prodding the fire to think.

"You can send a letter to them when we get on the Homestead."

"Really?" He asked slightly surprised.

She shrugged. "I don't see why not. Just say we're safe and we'll be back soon. She'll understand." She offered a smile, ignoring the images of her frightened and worried mother that had appeared behind her eyes.

Andrew nodded, then tilted his head. "What do you plan on doing, about mom and dad?"

"I have no doubt mom will be fine." She sighed. "I have no clue about dad. I haven't seen him since... It wasn't pleasant."

"Right," he said. He rubbed the bump on his head again. "...I think I'm going to go on and sleep."

"You're not hungry? Connor should be back soon."

"Nah, it's okay. I ate some jerky on the ride." She nodded and wished him a good rest as he lay on his side. He moved his pack, using it as a pillow and kept the blanket wrapped closely around his body.

As the time slowly passed, Anita tried not to think, just concentrating on the flames and the warmth it offered. As the rain began to fall, her concern almost subconsciously turned to Connor and found herself waiting where she was now. At the mouth of the cave, listening to the falling rain.

A dark figure emerged from the trees. Unable to make out exactly what it was, she took aim with Andrew's flintlock pistol. Connor became recognizable. He paused in his stride, realizing a pistol was being directed at him.

"Sorry," she called out, lowering the weapon.

He waved her off and stepped inside, water sliding off his hood and robes, a skin of a rabbit wrapped up in his hand. He unstrapped the belt across his chest, removing his bow and slid out of the heavy coat, shaking most of the water off. Underneath he was practically dry in his buttoned white tunic, apart from some loose strands of hair plastered to his face. He laid the robes down to dry completely by the fire, then moved on to begin the process of cutting and skewing the meat. Anita sat beside him to help and they worked in a comfortable silence.

"He was not hungry?" Connor whispered, gesturing to Andrews sleeping body across the fire.

"That's what he said. He also has a headache that he is trying to sleep off."

He nodded and they continued on in silence until their shared meal was complete. He checked on his robe, and finding it almost dry, pulled it back on. Anita unfolded the blanket over her as Connor grabbed his blue sleeping bag. He was much too large for sleeping inside the pouch and she wondered if there was a time he ever could. Before he laid it out, she broke the news to him. "We have only one blanket left."

He stopped, concerned. "We did not bring an extra?"

She shook her head. "And before you argue it's too freezing to sleep without one." He seemed slightly confused as she held out the side of the blanket. "Are you coming?" She whispered with a laugh.

"...Oh! Are you sure? You are comfortable?"

"Only if you are," she answered quickly. "Besides I wouldn't offer if I wasn't." He re-adjusted his grip on the sleeping bag.

"...I suppose you have a point." He walked up to her, offering the sleeping bag to her. "We can use this, for a pillow." She took it gratefully as he sat down beside her, positioning it behind them. "Do you feel the fire?"

"Yes," she tossed the blanket over him, "do you?"

"Enough." They both moved down, Connor staying on his back as Anita twisted on her side, still leaving a few inches between them. She pulled the blanket up, allowing him to do the same. He closed his eyes for a moment, the only sound being the crackling of the fire. "How do you feel?"

"Relieved."

He turned his head to look at her curiously. "About what?"

"I had convinced myself you would react a lot worse..."

"Oh... How so?"

"It ended with you hating my soul for an eternity and never wishing to speak with me again."

He shifted beside her, trying to find a more comfortable place on the stone floor. "For a second, I believed I did."

"What stopped you?"

"Mostly Andrew." She nodded, _Made sense_. "My enemies blood runs through you, as it does within myself. I understand you wanted to protect your family. I find no fault in this." He paused as Andrew rolled over in his sleep and lowered his voice. "I will never ask for you to choose between us... You know you cannot protect us both, correct?"

She sighed. "I know, but I'll be damned if I don't try." There was silence for a minute, both trying to fight off the oncoming sleep to continue their conversation.

"May I request one thing?" He asked, his voiced muffled by sleep.

"Depends..."

"No more secrets."

"From either of us?"

"Yes."

She smiled. Without a word she took his arm and brought it over her, moving closer to allow herself to curl up beside him. She felt his fist clench as he hesitated. Then he relaxed , but slowly tested as he opened his hand to rest on her curve. "I support that idea," she said. Suddenly, his grip on her tightened. To her surprise, he pulled her closer to him, until there was no space left between them. She smiled again and as her heart relaxed, began to drift off. She never took Connor for a cuddler, but she wouldn't be complaining anytime soon, finding such comfort from the feeling of him beside her.

A few minutes later, when she was positive he was asleep, she thought he heard him say something else.

"Hmm...?"

Connor turned on his side, wrapping his other arm around her. "Konoronhkwa..."

She opened her eyes, confused. "What does that mean?" When he didn't respond, she poked her head up at him, only to find it was too late. He was asleep.

The sky above was covered by threatening clouds as the trio traveled through the winding paths of the frontier. For the most part the ride had been quiet. Connor lead the way, followed behind Anita and then Andrew. She was actually surprised, however, that the two had restrain from any sort of argument or fight.

Connor also never addressed what he had said the night before, leading her to believe it unimportant. Just a simple goodnight wish in his native tongue. She had to recall the last time he actually addressed her in the Mohawk language and not the times she caught him talking to himself in the manor or in his sleep. It had to be when he tried teaching her his real name, Ratonhnhaké:ton, long before they were courting. She only ended up embarrassing herself, hoping she hadn't offended him in some way trying to pronounce it as her own tongue refused to move in the correct way. There were times when she still practiced and now thinking about it she grew worried she may never be able to pronounce it correctly.

Her horse snorted beneath her, its ears flattening back on its head. Her and Connor pulled to a stop to listen. She saw Connor tense up as her hand lowered to her sword. Andrew came up, coming to a stop beside her.

"You really thought we wouldn't come after you?" A disembodied voice threatened through the woods. Connor dismounted, immediately taking off to stalk through the trees.

"This can't be good," Anita muttered, quickly dismounting to follow after him. Seeing Andrew begin to follow, she stopped him with a stern gesture. "You wait here."

"Why?"

"Just stay, please?" He didn't move and she took it as her answer. Racing off to catch up with Connor, she found him not too far ahead. He glanced back, hearing her approach and she offered a smile, before a stranger's cry brought their attention forward. They quickened their pace, until coming up on a small camp site. They both instinctively held the other back, quickly finding the group of soldiers. Some of the uniformed men were looking through the tent, but what caught their attention was the three standing threatening over a hunched over, unarmed and bound man. A soldier spat, kicking the man hard in the stomach.

Connor stepped forward, a hand grasping his tomahawk as he flicked his wrist to bring out his hidden blade. Anita followed, stepping in line with him, eyeing the men carefully as they quickly became aware of their presence.

"Get out of here, you both," one man said with a heavy accent. He lowered his musket, the bayonet pointing directly at Connor's chest. "This is not your business."

"You'll be surprised. Just let the man be and we will leave," Anita said.

The man beside the first laughed. "That's cute, dearie. Now take your savage and get." He lowered his own musket, pointing it at her instead as she narrowed her eyes.

"No," Connor said simply.

He shrugged, seeing no threat. "Your funeral." The two men made a stab at them, overly confident about their opponents. Anita side-stepped, and in the same motion unsheathed her short sword. Taking his surprise to her advantage, she easily shoved the blade where she was sure his liver was. She kicked him off the blade, ignoring as he fell. The other men, five left in total, circled around. She took a step back, stifling a gasp when she bumped into Connor slightly, then smirked, slipping into a battle stance at the two men before her. One jumped forward, thrusting the bayonet at her. She deflected the blow, but the man responded faster and he swung the musket around at her. She ducked quickly, feeling the rush of air. Springing up, she grabbed the gun and slammed the body into its owners head while simultaneously running her blade through his chest. She ripped the sword free as the man was replaced by another. She slashed at him, expecting to hit flesh, but instead hit wood. She tried the other side and met the same block. She stabbed and he blocked. She slashed again and he locked their weapons to sneer at her, seeing her growing frustration. For a moment, she let her eyes bore into his as they struggled for an upper hand.

Then there was a loud bang and blood splattered across her face. She watched the man fall, a hole in the side of his head, before turning in the direction of the shot about to give a quick thanks to Connor, when instead she found Andrew lowering his flintlock pistol. Finding a man behind him raising a musket, she decided to be annoyed later. "An-," was all she managed to make out before Connor leapt at the soldier, knocking him to the ground as he slammed his tomahawk through his skull.

He picked himself up, only to find one of the soldiers he had knocked down, back up, holding a pistol to the tied up man's head. "Enough!" The three paused. Andrew held his own gun up, but they all knew he needed to reload. The soldier glanced nervously between the three, holding his hostage still. Anita and Connor shared a look. She took a step, but the man quickly turned on her, pressing his pistol to the man's temple for emphasis. She showed the palms of her hands and backed off. As the man glanced at the other two, Connor blasted a hole in his head.

Anita sheathed her sword and pulled her dagger out of her boot, letting Andrew and Connor take a minute to reload. The man before her was a larger built, yet still smaller than Connor. He wore an apron over simple colored clothes, the hair on his head shaved down, but his beard full. The most interesting feature on him though, were his ears, that looked as if they ended in a point. She stepped forward and cut the rope that bound his hands. "That should be better. Are you hurt?"

He rubbed his wrists."Nothing that won't mend," he said, pulling the rope around his neck over his head and tossing it to the side. "Thank you, strangers."

"What were they doing?" Connor asked, slipping his flintlock pistol back in its holster.

"This lot was dragging me though the countryside trying to make an example of a deserter," he explained, then stopped and looked between the three of them. "Sorry now, who are you three?"

"Connor," he gestured to her, "Anita and her brother Andrew," Connor shared quickly. "A deserter you say?"

"Don't much agree with the fight and I love this country so there you have it. Name's David Walston, friends call me Big Dave," he explained and walked up to give them each a firm handshake. "Might I ask where you live so I could repay the debt when I'm able? Might take me a while, us smithies don't earn much coin these days."

"A smith?" Anita asked with interest. "I don't think we have a smith on the Homestead."

"Our community is not far from here and we certainly could use the services of a smith. Would you consider plying your trade there?" Connor asked.

"Well...Would make repaying you lot a spot easier. I just might," and the two men shook hands.

Andrew watched, then lowered his gaze to his feet. There was something about the way Anita smiled between the two, even with another persons blood splattered over her face, that made his gut twist.


	14. Chapter 14

_Hey everybody! Have a chapter! _

_In response to the reviews: I'm happy everyone seemed to enjoy that little cuddle bit, haha. To Amy122: Yup, I think she's clear now! Haha. To Grikdckk: Ah Thank you! To AltyLover: Thank you so much! To awesomelatt56: Thank you! To WhisperArtemisMoon: Indeed...haha. To Blood Mistress Misery: Haha thank you! And to Britt: Thank you so much! _

_Another warm welcome to all the new followers! And another big thanks to you lurkers/reader/ and reviewers! You make my day! Hope you all like this one, too!_

* * *

Chapter 14:

As quietly as one could manage, Anita slipped through the door of the second story balcony, mindful of the plate in her hand. Connor's back still faced her, the only light coming from the lamp at the door. While he continued to gaze over the darkened Homestead, she came up behind him, offering the plate before coming around beside him. He looked at the presentation of food before him, then at her, his lips curved in a half-smile.

"I said I was growing hungry, not I required a full platter."

She shrugged, setting the plate of bread, jelly, and cheese on the railing. "It's for the both of us. You're really only getting half."

"Then I thank you for my half," he said, taking a slice of bread to dip in the jam.

"No problem. I just hope I didn't wake Achilles." She picked a piece of cheese and took a bite. "Are you two still arguing?"

"They are getting worse," he confirmed.

"Well...you both believe your answers are the right one. But in regards of keeping the Commander alive... you just have to do what you think you have to do."

"Achilles finds fault in what I think."

"A lot of people are going to disagree with your actions, Connor, but as long as you agree with yourself that's all that should matter...yeah, that is what I believe."

He nodded once, letting the words sink in. Taking another bread slice he said, "I have also thought about what you said earlier."

"You have?"

"Yes. I do not see such a thing happening. These two sides have fought long before our births and is almost certain they will continue long after our deaths. If a peace were possible between the Assassins and Templars, it would have happened."

She leaned against the railing. "Maybe because there has been no reason to try. What if an opportunity were to present itself? Would you take it?"

"_If_ such an opportunity were to arise, who am I to deny it?"

She nodded, content at least, with that answer and took another bite. "Let's talk about something else..."

He was quiet for a minute. "I have thought of visiting my village. To spend the day with my people next chance I have, when ever that may be."

"You should. I know it has been awhile since you've seen them." They both finished another slice of bread. "Hear Andrew has taking a liking to Lance?"

"I have." She folded a slice of bread around some cheese and ate it.

"Although it could also be him being restless at Mile's End. Which reminds me I should probably head back."

"Do you wish for me to accompany you?"

"It's just snow. I think I will be fine." She walked up in front of him, a small smile on her lips as she grabbed the edges of his robe. "Sleep well tonight."

He stood straight, looking down at her, still with a half-smile as he took her hands in his. "You as well."

A few weeks passed, the snow layered the ground and chores became harder to work through. Between their growing arguments, Achilles had given a job for Connor that involved him travelling far down south. In his absence, Andrew tagged along as she did her work. Back in the inn at the end of the day, he would write, and when she questioned, he would explain he was simply continuing a kept journal. She thought nothing of it.

Then Connor returned, the arguments heated, Andrew grew quieter refusing to look her in the eye. She felt it was only a matter of time before something snapped. Surely they felt it too. She thought having Andrew close would bring a sort of peace, but it hadn't. The only reassurance she had was how Corrine had also taken a quick liking to the teen. She had eagerly nurtured him from his first day. But then he took even that small comfort from her.

During one of their late night conversations they had been having lately, Connor expressed he had made up his mind. George Washington and his men held Valley Forge and Connor now planned to travel there to share everything he knew with the Commander for his own protection. Anita had every intention of coming with him, if only for a couple of days, then return back to stay with Andrew.

The day before the two planned on leaving, Anita returned to her and Andrew's room at Mile's End, only to find it empty. The two beds were made and the small desk was clear. Not organized or clean. Just cleared. It hit her like a punch in the face. "He didn't..."

She frantically searched the room, hopping for any hint the teen had even been there in the first place. All her belongings she had brought from the manor were left untouched, but anything of his was gone. Even an extra quill was no where in sight.

She took a deep breath and turned around. "Corrine!" She called. Anita ignored the curious looks Terry and Godfrey gave her from their table as she burst through the door to enter the small tavern. Approaching the bar, she tried to hide her impatience as the innkeeper finished serving a mug to a weary looking sailor.

As the sailor took his ale away, Corrine turned to Anita concerned. "You seem troubled dear."

"Perhaps a bit of drink?" Oliver offered from over his shoulder.

"No, thank you. Have you seen Andrew?"

She thought for a second, picking up a mug to wipe it with a rag. "Not since this morning with you."

Terry cut off Anita's curse. "We saw the lad about an hour ago."

"That's right!" Godfrey confirmed as Anita turned to the two lumberers. "Went speeding right past us. We'd figured you would've already known."

"The little shit..." she muttered under her breath. "Thank you," she said to the others. She left for her room, and in a quick fury, packed her belongings, slinging the bag over her shoulder. After Corrine kindly refused her offer for payment, she made her way to the manor.

She gave a quick round of knocks at the door before entering and immediately began searching for the two men who shared the home. A few quick steps inside and she found Achilles at the desk in the study. His elbow propped on the desk as he held his head in his hand. She thought he was asleep until he glanced at her through wrinkled fingers.

"I thought he would've taken you," the old man sighed.

"Who?" She asked, taking a step inside the room.

"Connor." He sighed again and leaned back in his chair, either not realizing or ignoring the effect that one word had on her. "The boy took off for Valley Forge I imagine."

"What? We're supposed to leave tomorrow."

"Yes, that is what he said... But I told him you two ran a fool's errand and, one thing lead to another, he stormed out."

She cursed. Of course they were both gone. At the very least, they could have told her, but no. She knew where Connor was going. Andrew however... She turned on her heel, beginning to make her way to the door, feeling an urgent need to drag them both back home to her.

"And where are you going?" Achilles asked, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"After them," she stated.

"Them?"

"Andrew is gone as well." Achilles looked away for a second. "I know it sounds bad..."

"Anita," he held up a dark hand to stop her. "I hope you still don't think you have me fooled. I knew the minute you first came into this... crumbling heap. Your father and I have had run-ins in the past."

"You... knew?" He nodded once and she faced him, surprised. "Then why didn't you do anything?"

"You think I didn't? The first year you were with us I warned that boy there was something not right about you, but he trusted you even with no reason." He looked up at her. "I will admit, however, I am... glad to be wrong in that regard." He paused, letting her fully process his words. "As for your brother, as much as I despise it, I'll hope to be wrong once more."

She nodded slowly, unsure of what to do with this new information. "I think I best be off," she said. He nodded at her and watched as she turned around to leave, the pack still over her shoulder. She stopped midstep and glanced back at the old man. "I... Thank you, Achilles." He waved her off and she took it as her goodbye.

If there was anything he immediately regretted after leaving, it was not telling Anita. A heavy feeling in his gut told him she was no doubt going to be angry. Would she chase after him, he wondered, or stay on the Homestead and wait for his return? Anita had patience, but did she have that much patience? "Hi-ya!" He shouted and kicked at his horses flanks, urging the animal faster.

Connor needed to keep his head clear. Valley Forge was a few days ride away. He was hopping if he rode hard and stayed focused, he could be there sooner. The air rushed past in his ears, the only sound being his horses hooves pounding on the dirt trail. He found he enjoyed these moments while travelling. His mind empty, alone, a destination, and the thunder of the beast beneath him.

Hours later, he stopped to allow the stallion a break. He rubbed the horse's neck, ignoring his own growling stomach at the moment. Perhaps he should have gone back for her...

The next couple days were a blur of snow-covered trees, hills, and occasional buildings. Finally, around early afternoon, he approached the camp of Valley Forge. He dismounted, leaving the horse at a post with hay to walk deeper in the fort. The men around seemed... miserable. Some soldiers watched him with muted interest as he passed, while most ignored him, keeping their minds on not freezing in the thick layer of snow.

Connor spotted the Commander at the top of the hill before him, watching over the troops. He began to make his way towards him, when from the corner of his eye he spotted the tail end of a familiar black jacket disappearing inside a tent. Slightly confused, the young native changed direction midstride. Stopping just outside, he peered inside the tent, only to find a doctor in a black coat hovering over his patient. Connor stepped back around the corner, instinctively slipping into the bit of shadow.

What had that woman done to him? Suddenly, he could see her smile so clear in his head, her quiet laugh a pleasant sound in his ears. Just her presence, such a welcome company. Similar to Kanen'tó:kon, yet still unique. Someone he had no fear of speaking with, or staying in complete silence with. There was also a small spark in her light brown eyes, that no one else seemed to notice. He found a simple natural beauty that others overlooked. Not to mention the feel of her lips on his or just her touch in general, brought a strong warmth to him. He hadn't fully realized it, but she filled a certain _something_ he was missing.

Connor stepped out of his hiding place, bringing his mind back to the task at hand. The Templars have their minds set on seeing Washington dead. He had his mind now set on preventing it.

...Had Anita's father been part of such a decision? Had Andrew? Surely not the teen who looked so much like her and just a child in her eyes. As of now there was peace between her brother and himself. Anita proposed it possible for a truce between all, but how would such a thing even start? Then he remembered his own father was also part of the reason he walked here now. He shook his head once more, clearing it of all thoughts.

He approached Washington, and while still a few feet away called out to him, "Commander."


	15. Chapter 15

_Hey everyone! Remember how I said I don't like long chapters? Yeah me neither... sorry._

_In response to the reviews: To awesomelatt56: Thank you! To Blood Mistress Misery: Yup, yup, and not quite. Thank you! To NoNeedToAsk: Oh, I hope you are you feeling better! And yeah I know what you mean about losing interest this is the farthest I've written in a story ever. Also, thank you! To PlainJane101: That's a bit odd, haha. Also, thank you that means a lot! And don't worry, it's coming up I think. To EpicCritic: Oh man thank you! It should all be fixed now! I keep telling myself I should stop editing these before bed, too. So, thank you! And to moirabb: That's more of a detail from my end. When I read your review it took me a minute to understand what you meant too! Hahaha, but now I changed it, so hopefully no more confusion! _

_A nice warm welcome to all the new followers and a thanks to you lurkers out there. Hope you like this one too! _

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Chapter 15:

Over a month of searching lead Anita to New York. After checking back with Terry and Godfrey, she concluded Andrew had left first. With that in mind, she followed her first instinct to Boston. It wasn't until she stood across the street from her old home that it occurred to her she probably shouldn't just knock on the front door to let herself in. For a few days, she camped on the house across the street, hoping for a glimpse of her brother, or anyone. Instead, she got a courier.

A man she'd never seen before approached the house late one evening. He knocked once and stepped back, removing his cap to reveal dirty blonde hair. She watched from her perch atop the roof as the door opened to show her mother. Anita's breath caught in her throat. She looked the same since Anita last saw her, apart from the noticeable streaks of gray in her hair. Anita reached up and grasped the charm around her neck, briefly letting her mind wander on the idea of running down to embrace her and talk to her as if nothing had happened. She suddenly wanted to hear her mother fuss over her appearance, hum as she cooked or gasp when she heard her swear aloud. Anita never knew until now someone could feel homesick while staring right at their home. She bundled up the feeling, shoving it aside.

Her mother handed the blonde haired man a sealed envelope. He stuck it inside his coat and began to walk away. She called out to him, adding something urgently. He turned back, gave her a reassuring nod, then continued on as her mother shut the door.

Keeping an eye on the man, Anita slung her pack's strap over her head. She climbed off the roof, down to the darkening streets below, muttering a quick thanks to the house owners. Staying a few yards back, she followed the man, multiple plans forming and dissolving in her head. There were plenty of other people on the streets, so she had no fear of raising suspicion.

He stopped in front of a tavern, glancing around before stepping inside. Anita sighed, weighing her coin purse in her hand and followed after him. The stank of stale ale hovered thickly in the air, overpowered only by the voices of the rugged patrons. A barkeeper with bright green eyes approached her as she took a few steps inside. "I'm looking for a friend," she told him dismissively. Anita found the blonde haired man alone at a table, nursing an ale. He eyed her skeptically as she took the empty seat across from him. "You're a courier, correct?"

"I'm off duty," he said and took a swig from his mug.

"I can see that."

He set the mug down, staring at her from the corner of his eye. "What's it that you want?"

She leaned forward, grateful her blouse was modest enough to allow the action, and folded her arms on the table in front of her. "You recently got a letter from a woman named Mary Alcott. To put it simply, I would like to know where it's going."

He took a long drink and set his mug down carefully. "Why should I tell you?"

"It's important."

He smirked and leaned forward over the table. "Just how important?"

She glared at the man for a minute, then surrendered, too tired to play such games. She brought a handful of coins to the table. "Important."

The man scooped the coins in his hands and leaned back, fishing out the letter. "It's addressed to a Cole Alcott," he said, tossing it on the table, "in New York."

She nodded, keeping her face neutral as she slipped it in her bag. Standing up, she gave a quick thanks before going to ask for a bed. The next morning, she left early to begin her trip for New York.

The last time she had been in this city, she was with Connor. She never got to see much of the city then, since the time was spent trying to prevent him from being executed. As much as she wanted to repress that memory, she found she just couldn't because of the night after. A strong ache gripped her chest.

Trying her best to ignore it, she continued on through the wide, rural streets. In her mind, she planned her search to start by the pier and circle around the city from there. She tied her horse outside an inn. Gently scratching the mares pink nose, she debated with herself. Her assumption had been if her father was somewhere in the city, then so was Andrew. She was anxious to begin her search, but it grew late in the evening and she had traveled for most of the day. _It's not like I will be getting much sleep anyway_, she thought. She tightened the strap of her bag and set off for the docks.

She walked for an hour. Her eyes constantly scanned every shadow twice. She was not even exactly sure what she was hopping to find. Andrew? Connor? Her father? Perhaps all three?

She turned a corner and stopped abruptly at her bit of luck. Andrew stepped out of a tavern, letting the door shut behind him. He glanced around. Finding nothing amiss, he tilted his cap lower and walked off in the direction opposite her. She followed after him through the thinning crowd, quickening her pace with each step until she was just one behind him.

"So," she called out, ignoring his surprised jump as he spun around, "when did you plan on telling me you were leaving?"

"Anita! How...?" Seeing the bit of anger in her eyes, he glanced down at his feet. "I wasn't sure how to tell you." He shook his head, "I don't have time to explain now." He looked back up, determined, "I have to hurry."

"Explain on the way," she said, gesturing for him to continue.

He hesitated, then did as she suggested, leading her through the streets. "...I had sent letters to dad. Telling him about you, Connor and anything about the Homestead really. Then I got a letter from mother saying father left with Church."

"Doctor Church?" She asked surprised, deciding to question about the letters later. "Why though?"

He shrugged, taking a shortcut through an alley. "Your guess is as good as mine. I mean, the guy just got out of jail not that long ago. Although, in my last letter, I admitted it was nice on the Homestead. Everyone cares about each other... like a family."

They stopped when the alley opened up to a wide, paved street. Across from them stood a tall, brick wall surrounding what looked like a simple brewery. She peeked around the corner, spotting the line of armed guards standing watch, and decided against it. "Where exactly are we?"

"An old brewery turned hideout. If the information I digged up holds true, then Church and dad should be inside."

She turned back to face him. "I'm assuming we need a password?"

He tapped his temple. "Already got it."

"Impressive."

"It's what I'm trained for," he beamed. Then his smile slowly faded. Concerned, she followed his gaze over her shoulder. Two male figures appeared from the shadows, approaching the guards at the door. The first man was clearly Master Haytham Kenway, but she had to double-check the man a step behind him. He wore a similar uniform to the other guards, but it was the way he carried himself that she recognized. That, and the white feather he left on the band around his hair.

"Connor?" The brother and sister shared a confused glance as the Assassin and Templar calmly spoke to the guards at the door. After a small exchange, a guard allowed them entrance, shutting the door tightly behind them. A small smile tugged at her lips.

"Wait," Andrew tapped her shoulder, "that's not good. We have to get in there." He took a step forward, but Anita grabbed his wrist.

"We can't just walk in after them."

"Do you have a better idea?" He challenged.

She studied the fence behind them, finding a spot on the corner that looked climbable. "I do, actually. Come on."

Staying around the corner, Anita pushed Andrew up along the brick. Laying on his stomach, he reached down to pull her up. They both landed softly on the other side. Wasting no time, she took the lead towards a cracked window, thankful for her luck today. They slipped inside, landing on the wooden boards of the second story. Greeted by the clashing of steel and shouts of men, the two moved quickly.

"That one and his half-breed!" A disembodied voice shouted clearly over the battle. Anita quickly crept around some crates and the two watched the scene below. Haytham and Connor fought back to back, their styles almost night and day, but equally effective. Haytham redirected a thrust, forcing the man he fought to expose their back and he greedily took the opportunity. Connor hooked his tomahawk around a mans knee, pulling it hard to send him falling on his back. Like a wolf, he jumped at him, sliding the blade in his other hand viciously across his throat before coming up to block another attacker.

"They used a decoy," Andrew hissed, gesturing to a man at the side in a powdered wig. Anita scanned the scene again.

"I don't see anyone that can be mistaken for father though."

"Maybe he came to his senses... Do you have an idea?" She sensed the panic in his voice. Tearing her attention from the battle below, she turned to him.

"Yes." She reached in her bag, pulling out the letter to hand to him. "I'll stay here. You go and see if father is perhaps still in the city."

He took the letter curiously, then slipped it in his jacket with a nod. He began to leave towards the window, then stopped with a second thought. Unstrapping his pack of ammunition and his flintlock pistol, he handed them to her. "Just in case," he said. "Be careful."

"You too," she said, taking the weapon gratefully. She felt confident he would be safe now that she actually knew what he was doing. She waited until he disappeared out the window before turning back to watch below, her fingers wrapping around the pistol.

The decoy cowered as his last man swung an axe heavily at Connor, who easily rolled under, allowing Haytham the chance to swipe in from the side where the man met his demise. Haytham wiped his sword clean. Connor stepped over the decoy, keeping a hand on his back to pin him on the ground. "Where is Church?" He demanded. Anita leaned in closer, wanting to hear what the man had to say.

"I'll tell you. Anything," the decoy pleaded. "Only promise you'll let me live."

Connor glanced back at Haytham, who answered with a short nod. As he turned back to the man, his eyes rested briefly on her. She gave a small smirk watching him try to hide his surprise. Connor pulled the decoy to his feet. "You have my word," he assured.

"He left yesterday for Martinique. Took passage on a trading sloop called the Welcome. Loaded half its hold with the supplies he and Alcott stole from the Patriots." Haytham slowly circled around as he spoke. "That's all I know, I swear." Connor nodded, glancing back up at her. They held eye contact for just a second. In the same moment it hit her how much she had missed him, the sound of a hidden blade being activated filled the room. Haytham roughly grabbed the man, slipping the blade in his back. "You promised..." he gasped before hitting the ground, dead.

"And _he_ kept his word," Haytham said as if it was a matter of fact. "Let's go." She was about to jump down, when three men with their muskets aimed low came running in on the ledge across from her.

"Watch it!" Connor took her warning before Haytham even got a chance to realize what was happening. He grabbed his father and dragged them to the protection behind some crates. In the same instance, she took aim for the man in the middle, pulling the trigger as they turned their aim to below her. There was a moment of silence after the two remaining returned fire, before a large explosion happened underneath the rafters she stood by.

She screamed as she hit the floor hard and gasped when something heavy landed on top of her. She blinked her vision back into focus. Trying desperately to scramble out from underneath the broken beams, flames began to take over. She gasped again as the weight shifted, cutting deep into her leg. Accepting she wasn't strong enough to free herself and that the blood she saw was her own, she began to panic. "Anita!" She looked up just in time to see Connor hesitate as he ran to her. In his dark eyes she saw what she never expected to see so clear in him. Fear. The type of fear that would cripple most.

He blinked and it was gone, replaced by determination. He rushed to her side, holding up the broken pile long enough to allow her escape. He let them drop once she was free, waving away the black cloud of smoke that rose. With his help, she got to her feet, urging him away from the growing flames.

"Can you walk?" He asked, trying to look her in the eye.

"It doesn't matter," she gasped. "We have to get out of here."

"You don't say?" Haytham answered casually from above them.

They ignored him. The fallen rubble created a path up and Connor directed her to it. She stumbled as a jolt of excruciating pain shot through her leg. He caught her elbow and pushed her up halfway to the platform above, keeping a supportive hand on her as she climbed. Mindful to land on her good leg, she jumped to the rafters. They ran along the beams, Connor right behind Anita, until suddenly her leg gave out. She stifled her yelp and caught the beam before she could fall to the stone below.

"Now is not the time for sight-seeing!" Connor ignored his father and the flames that engulfed the supportive pillars around them as he picked her up.

"Hold on," was all he said before he slung her on his back. She wrapped her arms around his neck without protest, careful to not accidentally choke him, and held on with her legs. It only took a couple of steps for him to get used to the extra weight. He continued through the rafters as the pops and crackles of flames grew louder and larger. Something gave out behind them and suddenly Connor jumped, managing to grab hold of a ledge at the last second. With all his strength he pulled them up and ran to the next room. There was a loud bang and the floor beneath gave out, forcing him to quickly counter their weight as he ran down to the new path.

"So close, yet so far," Haytham sing-song as Connor navigated through the burning first floor. He pushed off the bottom half of broken stairs and landed on the ledge just as Haytham began yelling at men they could not see. A violent cough escaped Anita and she felt Connor quicken his pace as he began to climb.

They reached the ledge Haytham stood on, cornered between the two remaining guards. With one arm, Connor reached behind to push her over the ledge first. She caught a glimpse of Haytham's confused look before she reached down to help Connor up as he struggled.

The floor above them cracked. Anita turned back just long enough to see a pillar crash though the floor between the three men. She ignored their screams as Connor landed beside her. They gave each other a nod, catching their breath, before Connor pushed himself to his feet to look into the newly created hole. She saw him consider for a second. Then he leaned down and pulled his father up.

As the two gave each other a quick once over, she used the opportunity to scoot over to the wall behind her, using it as support to help her to her feet. Haytham made his way to the double doors behind them, bowing his head slightly as he walked past her. "Miss Alcott."

She offered a small curtsey as best she could. "Master Kenway."

He paused in his stride to face her. "Last I heard of you was at a service for your death."

That took her by surprise. "Odd. Considering I'm not dead."

"Odd indeed." He walked up to the door and shook the handles. "Locked," he spat. "Connor, see if you can find something to pry it open." She watched curiously as Connor instead stepped behind Haytham, resting his hand on his hips as if preparing himself. "Connor? What are you up to?" He turned around. Him and Anita realizing what the young native was planning in unison. "Oh. No. Don't do that," he warned. "There's no way of knowing what's on the other side!" Anita let out a surprised noise as Connor charged at his father, sending them bursting through the double doors. Haytham's last word trailed off until she heard a satisfying splash. She followed along the wall, reaching the door just as the two broke the surface, both their hats now missing.

"We do now," Connor said, ignoring the heated glare Haytham was giving him. "It is alright," he called up to her. Haytham fished for his hat and swam his way to the nearby dock.

Anita looked over the ledge for just a second before she pushed off with her good leg. She was under the surface for only a few moments before a familiar, strong arm grabbed around her midsection. They broke the surface and she gave a quick thanks to Connor before they both swam over to the dock Haytham waited at.

"Church is at least a day on us," Haytham said as Connor and Anita climbed on the dock, trying to shake the water off. "We must move quickly if we're to catch him."

"I have a ship we can use." Connor leaned down, hooking an arm around Anita's knees and the other on her back to pick her up. "Meet me on the pier when you're ready."

It wasn't until they turned a corner, leaving Haytham far behind, when Anita looked up at him, a small smirk playing on her face despite all the pain she was feeling. Feeling her gaze, he glanced down at her. "Yes?"

"You and Haytham, huh?"

"An opportunity arose," he said. She nodded and gave a small smile, ignoring the sting in her leg. He brought them into an alley that opened up behind people's homes. He gently set her down against the wall and disappeared. She pulled up her tattered pants leg, wincing at the sight of the deep gash that covered most of her lower leg. She let out a curse. Connor reappeared, his Assassin garb in hand, and spotted how serious her wound was. He shrugged out of the wet guard jacket, setting his own clothes down. Ripping the sleeve off, he bent down beside her. "This will need stitches," he said as he began to wrap the fabric around.

"It can wait until we are on the ship," she answered and braced for his retort.

He paused. "If that is what you want." He tied off the end and grabbed his white tunic. "Wear this until then."

She nodded, a bit surprised, but took the dry garment gratefully. They turned their backs to the other, more out of respect than anything else. She set her bag aside and slipped out of her jacket, wringing it out to fold over her bag. She pulled her blouse over her head and quickly replaced it with Connor's tunic . It was a size too big and the last button was lower on her then she would have liked, but it was dry. She gave an all clear and patiently waited for him to do the same, noticing the sky beginning to lighten.

"Ready?" She twisted at her waist to look behind her just as he pulled up his hood. The still dripping ruffles and lace looked almost silly with the rest of his proper uniform.

"When ever you are," she answered. Using the wall, she pushed herself up and grabbed her jacket and bag. She began to lead the way, testing her weight on her leg. She held in her surprised gasp as Connor picked her up once more, continuing on at a faster pace. "I can walk," she protested, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Then she remembered she wasn't in her modest blouse and moved her hands to her lap instead.

"Slowly," he responded. "If you want your wound to heal, you should stay off it."

"You're just going to carry me everywhere then?"

"Of course not. You are just going to rest below deck." He looked down at her in his arms, being sure she was listening. "That also involves if I say get below deck, you will."

"...Fine." If those were his terms, she accepted. He adjusted his grip slightly as she rested her head against his shoulder. The events of the day were creeping in on her. For now, Andrew was fine and she was with Connor. Still, she fought off the sleep as they made their way to the pier to wait for Haytham.


	16. Chapter 16

_Hey everyone! Here's a chapter! An odd case of writers block hit me while writing this, which is why it took awhile, not to mention some other personal stuff but that's not important! Anyway._

_In response to the reviews: To Amy122: Oh just wait, haha. To EpicCritic: Ah thank you! Full synchronization is so damn hard in that game so I don't blame you. Thank you! Hahaha yes! I'm really glad you said that because I was afraid I was writing too much mush and was getting annoyed with myself. It's okay, I understand. Hahaha. And you too! Ps. YES. I'm really excited because it sounds really interesting. Have you seen the new stills from it that came out? That outfit is going to be the death of me, I swear! To Blood Mistress Misery: Thank you! Me too! I almost screamed the first time I saw it then couldn't stop laughing. I just wasn't expecting it, haha. To Huxfjfzvtsd: Ahh Thank you! I'm really happy you liked it! To Nemishysteria: Oh wow that is awesome. Adding your review to reviews that have made me cry oh god. I just, wow. I'm honored to be able to help you fall for one of my favourite characters! And Thank you! And to summer: That made my day!  
_

_A warm welcome to the new followers and a thank you to all the lurkers out there as well! (So close to a hundred though...) _

_Also, a huge shout-out to EpicCritic for being such a self-proclaimed Grammar Nazi! It's a big help! _

_Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed 3 or any related characters, however Anita and everything with her are mine. _

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Chapter 16:

"That should suffice." With a final, small tug, the doctor to the _Aquila_ tied off the end of the thread. He wiped the excess blood away, double checking his handiwork. Satisfied, he bundled up his supplies and the bloody fabric.

Anita sat up, letting her fingers trail just over the fresh stitches on her leg. "It's much appreciated," she told him.

"Ah. It was nothing. Anything for the Captain's girl." He stood and left as the heat rose in her cheeks. It was still odd being referred to in such a way. She fell back on the bed and closed her eyes with a small smile as the _Aquila_ creaked gently against the waves.

There was a short string of knocks at the cabin door. She turned over just as Connor entered, looking her over with a relieved expression as he shut the door behind him. "I wanted to be sure you were seen to." He took off his tricorn hat, letting it hang on the back of his desk chair. After being sure her and Haytham were given spare clothes for the time being, he had changed into his own Captain's uniform. The dark blue coat fitted his form nicely, she found. Once they had changed, he brought her to rest in his own quarters, before heading back to the main deck to help his men set sail.

"You worry too much about me," she said sheepishly, sitting up.

"...Not as much as I should, as of late, but I have missed you," he admitted, wringing his hands.

She glanced down. "We're both guilty of that." Connor sat on the edge of the bunk beside her, looking over the stitches and slight burns on her exposed skin. She watched him quietly for a moment, a sly smile tugging the corner of her lips. "You _can_ remedy that now..." He tore his eyes away from the burns to look at her, taking a second to realize exactly what she meant. He smirked and leaned towards her. However, as he grew closer, her necklace began to shake under her shirt. She let out an embarrassed small laugh and pulled the chain over her head, setting it aside on the beside table. She turned back to face him, seeing his amused smile for just a second before he gently pressed his lips to hers briefly.

Connor pulled back to look at her face fully and said quietly, "Konnorónhkwa."

She frowned slightly. "You've said that before..." He blinked, surprised, as he tried to remember. "In the cave."

She saw it in his eyes once he remembered. He nodded once before looking back up at her. "It means 'I love you'."

The sentence hung in the air as she repeated the word in her mind. Anita rested her forehead on his and whispered back, "I love you, too." His eyes softened and he broke into a wide grin before leaning in to kiss her again. She snaked her arms around his neck, pulling her on him as his wrapped around her waist. Her fingers tangled in his hair, gently tugging out the band that held it. Anita pulled back, much to his dismay, to admire as it fell naturally. He hooked his thumb under her chin to bring her back to him.

But as heat rose between them, she found it wasn't enough. Anita slide her hands down his chest. Grabbing the folds of his coat, she fell on her back, dragging him down with her. He let out a hum, feeling her teasing smile, before her lips parted for permission, and encouragement.

Knuckles rasped against the door and the two jumped apart, expressions matching a child caught with their hands on a sweet meant for later. Anita let out a laugh as Connor carefully moved off her with a sigh. "A moment," he called out. He grabbed the discarded tie before standing. Anita pushed herself back up once again, feeling the red in her cheeks. As he quickly tied his hair back once more, he opened the door to his cabin. Robert Faulkner, a very good friend to them both, stood in the doorway. The rugged, first-mate looked between the two.

"Sorry if I, erm, interrupted anything, Captain, but Haytham wishes to go over the charts with you again," he explained with an almost apologetic look on his bearded face.

Connor nodded. He leaned over to pluck his hat off the chair to place it back on his head. He turned to say something to Anita, but she held up a hand to stop him.

"It's fine, don't worry. I'll be here when you return." He nodded once and she watched him leave until the door shut behind him. With a small sigh, she settled under the covers. "As always."

The room was dark when she heard the door close. Through the haze of sleep, she reached clumsily out to where she was sure her dagger rested. "It is only me," Connor's voice said. She answered with a soft groan, scooting closer to the wall the bunk was up against. She heard him shuffle around, the sound of fabric moving and weapons being unstrapped and set aside, before he climbed under the covers beside her. She was a bit surprised, but felt him hesitate, waiting for a protest. When none came, she felt a strong arm settle over her waist and she leaned up against him, feeling the buttons on his shirt and knew he would only be there for a few hours. "Have you got everything sorted?"

"We will be on them in the coming weeks." His voice was heavy and she didn't ask anything else, knowing he was tired. She hummed her response and felt him nestle in her hair. "...You prefer my hair down?"

She didn't answer, just moved to take his calloused hand in hers. "Goodnight Connor." He muttered his response and she gave a little laugh before settling back in the bed.

Two weeks later:

He watched from the _Welcome_ as the other ship sailed away, a never-ending string of curses rushing out of his mouth. Church had betrayed him. In hindsight, he really should have seen it coming, considering the man's background. But it was a fancy tale he told him. Had so much promise. He was sure even a smarter man would've been convinced. Steal supplies from the already broken army and sell it for their own benefit. Easy enough, considering their combined resources. Everything was going so smoothly as well. Then word reached them Grandmaster Haytham was on their tale and Church panicked. In his haste, Cole Alcott was now stuck with a cargo hold full of stolen supplies with the parting words of 'better you than me.' The sound of canon fire, however, told him that perhaps he would be the lucky one in the end.

But that was earlier. Now he had a completely new problem to deal with. Gripping the flintlock pistol at his side so hard his knuckles turned white, he leaned up against a wall, hearing a man approach. He had no intention of dying today.

"Have you checked over here, Connor?" Haytham's all too familiar voice called out. Cole let out a curse under his breath, pressing harder against the wall. Haytham's steps grew closer and he took in a breath.

Cole sprang out around the corner, bringing up the pistol, forcing Haytham to stop short.

"I was wondering where you'd gone off to," Haytham said as if he had just found a pet sleeping behind a curtain.

"I'm guessing Church is...?"

"Dead? Indeed." The Grandmaster casually folded his hands behind his back, seemingly ignoring the weapon directed at him. "By my own son's hand."

"You must be proud." Cole knew Haytham. The games he'd play. The man can go from appearing as no threat at all to having you dead at his feet in seconds.

"A bit odd, actually. Especially considering how in the past weeks I've not only been in his company, but young Anita's as well."

Cole's eyes narrowed. "Where is she?"

"Have you forgotten? How you told us some sad tale of her death? Because apparently you refused to look me in the eye and say she ran off instead?" Haytham glanced at something from the corner of his eye, but he thought nothing of it. He refused to answer him. Haytham sighed. "Unfortunately, my friend, aligning with Church this time means betraying the Order for personal gain." He brought his arm around and with a flick of his wrist, the Assassin hidden blade popped out. "You know as well as I."

Cole felt his heart beat quicken in his chest and his finger tightened around the trigger. In the same second, a burst of movement came from the corner and someone grabbed his wrist, shoving it up as the pistol fired. The ball chipped the wood above harmlessly. Cole quickly grabbed for his attacker, using their weight to spin them around to pin him. The larger man realized his plan, and threw a heavy punch in his stomach. Cole let him run in the wall as he doubled over, his eyes seeing dots as his breath was forced from him. Haytham rushed over, punching him in the temple with enough force to knock him down.

Haytham stepped over him, glancing over at his son. "Who would've thought?" Haytham asked no one in particular. "Your daughter and my son." Connor pulled himself to his full height, looking between his father and the man on the floor. Confusion, frustration, and even a bit of pity mixed within him as he stared down Anita's father.

Cole pushed himself up on one elbow, his eyes finding Connor. Realizing who he was, they filled with venom. In a fury, he launched himself at the younger man. He wasn't even armed now, he just wanted his hands on the man. Cole crashed into Connor's waist, knocking him on his rump with a startled cry. He managed to bring an arm up to block Cole, as the older man struggled to wring his hands around his neck.

They were both too caught up in their struggle to hear Haytham approach from behind. Cole gasped at the feel of a blade slipping through his side. He glanced down, seeing red ooze through the seams of his white tunic.

Taking his distraction, Connor shoved him off and jumped to his feet. As Cole grasped at the fatal wound, Connor set aside any other feelings or remarks to simply ask, "Why?"

He didn't answer at first. Instead, he slowly struggled to stand. Haytham moved as if to knock him back down, but Connor stopped him. "Let him stand."

Cole scoffed, staggering back to lean on the door frame. "Don't pity me, boy. Are you really unsure as to why?" He paused to take in a deep breath, blood trickling down from his hairline. "You stole her... She had promise, I saw it. I knew it... But you stole her. Stole both of them..."

"No. Anita left on her own. She made a choice and even then she still wanted you together. It was _you_ who turned away. Or did you forget how you desired for my death, you were willing to risk even her?"

"Perhaps... I wanted to move up in the Order. I thought with your death...we could." Blood seeped through his fingers and he slowly slid down to the floor, his eyelids growing heavy. Haytham came up behind Connor, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"We best return to those supplies." Connor nodded, turning his head slightly to watch his father leave before lowering his eyes. "But why this? It was possible for it to be different."

"...I thought I lost them." He suddenly reached out, grasping Connor's forearm. "Wait, please..." With his other hand he unstrapped the knife at his waist, handing it to the young native. "Tell her I still love her... I still love them all. To the end..."

Connor gently lead the man back down. "You have my word," he promised. With a last effort, Cole gave a small nod and his arm a slight squeeze. Connor waited patiently as the man's eyes closed and he quietly passed on. Connor stood and his next words were in his native tongue. "Your heart was true, but your mind was lost. At least now we have less to worry for and I will hope you can be forgiven."

With the help from a young sailor, Anita surveyed the damage on the_ Aquila_ as the crew picked up the supplies. There were some spots on the mast and haul that would need repairs, but for the most part the damage appeared minor, thanks to Connor's expertise. She only wished she could have helped out during the battle somehow, but she still needed assistance to get anywhere at a decent speed.

"Looks like the Captain's back!" Her young escort pointed out to the line of rowboats coming in beside the ship filled with small crates and sacks. "I'm going to go help. Do you wish for me to take you below deck?"

She shook her head. "I think I can handle it, but thank you." Anita leaned against the mast, the gentle sea breeze playing with her hair. For a while, she watched quietly as the men worked to get the supplies stored on board. Even Haytham supplied a hand. She mostly watched Connor as he helped and gave orders and after a bit Mister Faulkner came up to wait beside her. The longer she watched however, the more she realized something was off. She couldn't figure it out, and it was causing her to panic.

Confident the men could handle the rest, Connor left the group to approach her, Haytham a step behind. She didn't like how he hadn't looked at her yet or how he was wringing his hands together. Haytham moved to stand on the starboard side beside them, watching as the sun set over the bay the _Aquila_ had dropped anchor in.

She looked over Connor, taking notice for the first time the fresh blood on his shirt. "Did something happen?" She asked concerned, pointing out the spot.

He stayed quiet and instead moved to pull something out from his belt to hand to her.

Anita took the sheathed knife carefully, pulling it out to briefly admire the blade and worn leather handle. Her breath caught. "This is... this is my fathers." She glanced between Haytham and Connor, her heart quickening in her chest.

"He said he loved you, Anita. To the end."

"The end?" She shook her head at Connor's words. "No... no. _No_."

"He abandoned the Order. He knew the consequences of such actions." Anita turned to Haytham. She felt a heavy weight drop in her stomach at his words. The pieces fell together and she shook her head. He was the Grandmaster. The kill would've belonged to him. He ruined it. The way he stood so calmly with his hands folded at the small of his back suddenly made her angry.

"You..."

Haytham turned halfway, an eyebrow springing up. With a snarl, she lounged for him, aiming to claw at his face. She wanted to hit him, as hard as she could and she saw herself stab the knife in his back. However, she only made it a few steps forward before a strong arm wrapped around her torso to hold her back. She kicked and punched at Connor as he picked her up, shouting for him to drop her. He took her away instead, ignoring the curious gazes of his men and father. She wailed like a child as he took her to his quarters, worried she would open her wound if she kept it up. Keeping a steady grip, he opened his cabin door and kicked it shut behind him. She quieted down, hearing the door close. He sat on his bunk, keeping a hold on her as they both finally realized she had tears streaming down her cheeks.

Anita buried her face in his shoulder and Connor hoped Mister Faulkner will be able to handle the crew on his own for a while. "Tell me," she sobbed, "...what happened." Her voice was muffled by his coat. He scooted back to lean on the wall behind them, pulling her easily along with him to keep her in his lap. He paused and told her everything that had happened. Her grip tightened as he spoke and he felt her tremble. When he was done, she said nothing. The cabin grew dark and soon she stopped shaking. He waited until she was completely quiet and even longer to be sure she was fast asleep. Carefully, he took the knife from her hands, setting it aside. He rested his head on hers, allowing himself sleep as well, knowing it will be an interesting trip back.


	17. Chapter 17

_Hey guys! Well, this took awhile, again due to some personal stuff, so sorry about that. Break between chapters might be this long for now on, but don't worry, I'm still very determined to see this through. Anyway._

_To EpicCritic: I'm actually positive my computer may have a virus and I didn't want to risk emailing you in case it passed on. I hope you don't mind! _

_In response to the reviews: To Blood Mistress Misery: I really liked the use of smileys in that review. A good range of emotions, haha. To Darksoulrose: Haha no kidding. And thank you! To summerXsunshineX, Dffjcdht, and Britt: Thank you so much! _

_A warm welcome to the new followers and a thanks to the lurkers. You guys are awesome! _

_Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Assassin's Creed 3, but Anita is mine. _

* * *

Chapter 17

The next few days passed quietly. For the most part Anita stayed in the captain's cabin, restless, but staying curled up under the blankets. Connor did his best to console her, which she was grateful for, but she still felt numb and did not want him to know. Her leg continued to heal as the days passed, allowing her to escape during the night. Once she was sure he was in a deep sleep, she would slip out to the deck to find some peace.

She sat against the main mast, looking up at the clear night. The crew awake ignored her. The sound of waves against the ship gave her the only company she wanted at the moment. She let out a small sigh.

"Miss Anita." She gasped at Haytham's voice and immediately regretted it. Standing to face him, she quickly made a straight face.

"Haytham."

His eyes narrowed slightly at the lack of title. "And just how are you this night?"

"I've been better," she said, her own eyes narrowing, "as I'm sure you can imagine."

"My quarrel is not with you, Anita." He folded his hands behind his back. "At least not at the moment."

"Well, at the moment, mine is with you. I understand what you did and why. It was nothing personal. But listen when I say, you are lucky Connor was there, or else I would've stabbed that knife right in your bloody black," she hissed.

"The same can be said to you. Don't ever make a move for me like that again," he threatened sharply, causing her to take a step back. "Now if you'll excuse me..." He walked around her, a hint of a smirk on his face.

"You could have at least let me say goodbye," she muttered.

He paused in his stride for just a second. "Sometimes you don't get to, Anita," he said before continuing on to the ship's railing. She sighed and left to return to her cabin.

She slipped back through the door, shutting it quietly behind her. She rubbed her eye as she tip toed back to the bed. Her foot caught on something, causing her to fall forward with a yelp. She managed to catch herself on the bed, but she heard a grunt below her and, next thing she knew, she was being straddled and pinned down on the floor.

"It's me," she hissed up at Connor, managing to bring a knee up to nudge him in the back.

He muttered an apology as he moved off her, still half asleep. "What were you doing?"

She pushed herself up, getting annoyed at how often that keeps happening. "Returning from the deck. What were you doing on the floor? Was it a nightmare?" She crawled up into the bed, glancing back at his shadow in concern.

He shuffled around before following after her. "It is unimportant."

"You always have nightmares after an assassination," she said, offering him some blanket. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, it is fine," he said. He let out a yawn and pulled her in close, taking her by surprise. "Just stay."

"Of course." She settled into him, finding comfort in the warmth he offered.

They walked up to the red manor in silence. It was different from their usual comfortable silence, though. This one they could feel all around, as if it were a physical thing. Their separate thoughts weighing heavy in their minds. The two climbed up the steps, Anita glancing over the hatchet buried in the post with a sigh. Connor cast a curious eye over at her, but she just shook her head.

He stepped ahead and opened the door for her. The manor is always so quiet when one first enters. It often creaked, especially on windier days, but always welcoming after time away. Walking down the hall, they found Achilles writing at his desk in his bedroom. Connor knocked on the door frame.

Achilles glanced up from his writing to find the two. "Welcome back. And how was Martinique?" Anita lowered her head, staying in the door way.

"Achilles... I...," Connor began, "I owe you an apology." The old man quickly waved him off. "It was wrong of me to say the things I did."

Achilles stopped writing for a moment to look at him. "Your words were harsh, Connor, but there was also truth there. I failed the Order. Allowed the Templars to take control."

"But now their hold is weakened, which makes me believe there's a chance for peace." Both Anita and Achilles watched Connor as he spoke, his voice taking an almost pleading tone. "Imagine what might be accomplished if we were to unite." He held up a clenched fist to emphasize his point.

"Why the change of heart? Where is this coming from? Even Anita alone couldn't cause such a thought." Connor paced back and Achilles came to a conclusion. "You've met your father, haven't you?"

"I do not claim to trust the man, or even like him." Connor glanced back at Anita. "But I would remiss to ignore this opportunity."

"Haytham may listen. But will he understand? And even if he does, will he agree?"

"Even he must admit that we achieve more together than we do alone."

"I assume you're off to find him?"

"Yes. I ride for New York to see what might be done."

"And you're going with him?"

Anita shook her head. "No. I'll be going to Boston. To spend time back home." Achilles nodded, returning to his writing and ending the discussion. The two made their way back outside. "That went better than expected," she said as they walked to the stables. Connor gave a short nod, opening his mouth to say something, when a woman's scream cut him off. They both spun in the direction of the sound. "That sounded like-"

"Prudence." He took off at a sprint down the path, heading into the surrounding forest. Anita cursed before taking off after him.

They found her just off the road, doubled over and breathing rapidly. "Connor! Anita! Thank the Lord!" Prudence gasped out, her ebony skin glistening with sweat.

Connor rushed to her side. "Prudence! Are you alright? What are you doing out here in the woods?"

Anita shoved him aside. "The baby isn't...?"

"Yes," she wailed. "The baby's coming."

Connor reached for her arm and shoulder, trying to pull her along. "We need to get you to Doctor White." Prudence cried out and Anita quickly slapped his hands away.

"Don't," Anita scolded and he backed off. "Connor go get Doctor White and bring him here! I'll stay. Hurry!"

"Take my horse," Prudence called after him. He nodded and jumped on top of the chestnut mare. With a quick kick in the flanks, the horse went speeding off. Anita turned her attention back to the woman in labor, grasping her hand reassuringly.

"Just keep breathing," she urged. "Connor will be back. It'll be alright."

"Oh, thank you, Anita. Thank you." Anita gave her a smile before she cried out again, this time crushing Anita's hand.

"Not a problem," she hissed through gritted teeth.

The two women waited for only a minute longer before they heard horse's hooves approaching. Connor charged in, followed closely behind by Doctor White and Warren. The men dismounted and Anita handed Prudence off to more capable hands. "I think I can manage at the moment, Doctor," Prudence told the man.

Warren came to her side as Anita backed off to stand beside Connor, knowing she was in better hands, but still concerned for their friend. "Is she alright, doctor?" Warren asked.

"No, she's not alright. She's having a baby," Doctor White said, carefully leading her to sit against a tree, "and _here_ by the looks of it."

"Is there anything we can do to help?" Connor asked.

"If you can bring some water and rags, that will be lovely," the doctor said.

"Right away," Anita said. Her and Connor ran back to the manor, him fetching the water while she grabbed the spare rags and a blanket. They returned and handed off their supplies to the doctor, before stepping back a respectful distance.

The birth went smoothly. Prudence's screams only ending at the sound of a new born's cry. Anita smiled warmly at the scene. She rested her head on Connors arm, watching as Doctor White wrapped the crying newborn up in a blanket.

"There he is! Looks to be in fine health as well. Has a good set of lungs on him." Doctor White said as he handed the baby boy to his mother. "I don't mean to rush you, but we need to get both you and," he paused, "does he have a name yet?"

Warren crouched down beside her, looking at his son as if he were made of gold. "Hunter," he said.

Anita blinked back tears at the scene, still smiling. As Doctor White and Warren helped Prudence up, Connor glanced down at her. "You alright?"

"Huh? Oh, yes. Just happy for them."

"As am I. They will make fine parents."

"Yeah..." she agreed, watching the two men lead Prudence back to Doctor Whites. Connor and Anita headed back to the manor, calming down from the sudden adrenaline. She was quiet for a minute as they walked, half of her wishing she hadn't run so hard and the other lost in a completely different thought. One more centered around Warren and Prudence. "Connor...?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you think... No forget it," she said, regretting having spoken up.

He looked down at her curiously. "I don't mean to pry, but you know you can tell me anything."

"I know, it's just," she bit her lip, trying to find the right words, only ending with a sigh. "Do you think there will... be a time for us?"

"What do you mean?" He turned to face her, stopping them beside the carriage at the bottom of the hill.

"I mean like Warren and Prudence. A time where we don't have to worry about this goddamn war. Or the Assassins and Templars." Her voice trailed off and she glanced down. "Perhaps even a family?"

"Oh... oh." Connor started wringing his hands together. Anita watched the nervous movement, not wanting to meet his eye. "One day perhaps is all I can say, Anita. Unless, you wish for it now?"

"No, no," she quickly assured. "A little one is the last thing I have on my mind. I just want to know that this is all going to lead to something."

"It will lead to this country's freedom."

"But what of you? If you constantly make these sacrifices you're going to get yourself killed and where will that lead to? What will become of Achilles? Or Norris? Or your village? Or the rest of the Homestead if someone manages to blast a hole in your head? What of me?"

Connor placed his hands on her shoulders, leaning down to look her in the eye. As hard as she was trying to hide it, he knew she was on the verge of breaking down again. "Such heavy thoughts will only crush you, Anita," he said before pulling her into an embrace.

"It's all I've been thinking about. I just hope time at home will help." She broke apart, taking a deep breath. "Are you still leaving for New York?"

"Yes. And you for Boston?"

She nodded. "We best get going then." She continued on down the path, leading the way back to the stables. The two saddled up their horses, working in silence, not wanting to waste anymore daylight. Anita scratched her horse's neck as Connor finished strapping on the reins. "Connor?"

"Yes?"

"Please, be careful. With Haytham."

"I will. Don't worry too much about it." She wanted to believe him, but she had a twisted feeling deep in her stomach.


End file.
